822 

B66aV 

189- 


Boucicault. 

After  dark. 


OAK  ST.  HDSF 


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(]Xtiiiil>ei*  364.) 


AFTER  DARK. 


A DRAMA  OF  LONDON  LIFE  IN  1868, 

IN  FOUR.  A-CTS. 


(. Authorized  adaptation  of  Messrs.  Grange  and  Dennery's 
uLes  Oiseaux  de  Prole .”) 


By  DION  BOUCICAULT, 

Author  of  “ Arrcth-na-Pogue “ Foul  Play,”  “Kerry,”  “ The 
Bapparee ,”  “Formosa,”  etc.,  etc . 


TOGETHER  WITH 


A Description  of  the  Costumes— Cast  of  the  Characters — Entrances 
and  Exits — Relative  Posit  ions'' of  the  Performers  on  the 
Stage — and  the  whole  of  the  Stage  Business. 


. gUro  XJovk : 

THE  DE  WITT  PuiuSHINGr  H0U£E, 


No.  33  Hose  Street. 


\ C OMPLETE  DESCRIPTIVE  CATALOGUE  OF  DE  WITT’S  ACTINCj 
A.  JLAYS  and  DEWITT’S  ETHIOPIAN  AND  COMIC  DRAMAS,  containing 
ot.  C ->stume,  Scenery,  Time  of  Representation,  and  all  other  information,  mailed 
e an  1 post-paid  on  application. 


3DE  WITT’S 

Ethiopian  and  Comic  Drama. 

3ft 

'Nothing  so  thorough  and  complete  in  the  way  of  Ethiopian  and  Comic  Dramas  as 
ever  been  printed  as  those  that  appear  in  the  following  list.  Not  only  are  the  plott  ex- 
cellent, the  characters  droll,  the  incidents  funny,  the  language  humorous,  but  , 11  the 
situations,  by-play,  positions,  pantomimic  business,  scenery,  and  tricks  art  so  plainly 
put  down  and  clearly  explained  that  the  merest  novice  could  put  any  of  them  on  t2?s 
stage.  Included  in  this  Catalogue  are  all  the  most  laughable  and  effective  pieces  of  their 
kind  ever  produced. 

Any  of  the  following  Plays  sent,  postage  free,  on  receipt  of  price— Fifteen  C en  i.~ 

each. 

In  ordering,  please  give  correctly  the  title  of  each  piece  wanted. 

***  These  Plays  require  but  one  scene,  unless  otherwise  stated.  The  figures  i;i  the 
columns  indicate  the  number  of  characters— M.  male;  F.  Female. 


No.  M.  F. 

141.  Absent  Minded,  Eth.  farce 3 1 

73.  African  Box,  Eth.  burlesque,  2 sc.  6 

107.  Africanus  Bluebeard,  Eth.  musical 

burlesque 6 2 

113.  Ambition,  Irish  farce,  2 scenes....  7 

133.  Awful  Plot  (An),  Eth.  farce 3 1 

43.  Baby  Elephant,  Eth.  sketch,  2 sc.  7 1 

42.  Bad  Whiskey,  Irish  sketch 3 1 

79.  Barney’s  Courtship,  Irish  musical 

interlude 1 1 

40.  Big  Mistake,  Ethiopian  sketch.  ..  4 
155.  Black  Brigands,  musical  burlesque  8 

6.  Black  Chap  from  Whitechapel, 
Ethiopian  farce 4 

10.  Black  Chemist,  Ethiopian  sketch. . 3 

11.  Black-Ey’dWilliam, Eth. sketch, 2sc.  4 1 
146.  Black  Forrest  (The),  Eth.  farce.  ..2  1 

110.  Black  Magician,  Eth.  comicality..  4 2 

126.  Black  Statue  (The),  Eth.  farce 4 2 

127.  Blinks  and  Jinks,  Eth.  sketch  ....  3 1 

128.  Bobolino,  the  Black  Bandit,  Eth. 

musical  farce 2 2 

120.  Body  Snatchers  (The),  Eth.  sketch 

2 scenes . 4 

78.  Bogus  Indian,  sketch,  4 scenes. ...  5 2 
89.  Bogus  Talking  Machine,  Eth.  farce  4 
24.  Bruised  and  Cured,  Eth.  Sketch..  2 

108.  Charge  of  the  Hash  Brigade,  comic 

Irish  musical  sketch 2 2 

148.  Christmas  Eve  in  the  South,  Eth. 

farce 6 2 

35.  Coal  Heaver’s  Revenge,  Eth.  sketch  6 
112.  Coming  Man,  Eth.  sketch,  2 scenes  3 1 

41.  Cremation,  Eth.  sketch,  2 scenes..  8 1 

144.  Crowded  Hotel  (The),  sketch 4 1 

140.  Cupid’s  Frolics,  sketch 5 1 

12.  Daguerreotypes,  Eth.  sketch 3 

53.  Damon  aud  Pythias, Eth.  burlesque 

2 scenes 5 1 

63.  Darkey’s  Stratagem,  Eth.  sketch..  3 1 

131.  Darkey  Sleep  Walker,  Eth.  sketch.  3 1 
124.  Deaf  as  a Post,  Eth.  sketch 2 

111.  Deeds  of  Darkness,  Eth.  extrava- 

ganza  6 1 

139.  Desperate  Situation,  farce 5 2 

159.  Dodging  the  Police,  farce 6 3 

157.  Don’t  Get  Weary,  musical  sketch.  1 1 

50.  Draft  (The),  Eth.  sketch,  2 scenes.  6 

64.  Dutchman’s  Ghost  (The),  sketch. . 4 1 

95.  Dutch  Justice,  Dutch  sketch 11 

67.  Editor’s  Troubles,  farce 6 

4.  Eh?  What  is  it?  Eth.  sketch 4 1 

136.  Election  Day,  Eth.  farce,  2 scenes.  6 1 
98.  Elopement  (The),  farce,  3 scenes..  4 1 

52.  Excise  Trials,  Eth.  sketch 10  1 

i?.5.  Fellow  that  Looks  like  Me,  inter- 
lude... 2 l1 


88.  First  Night,  Dutch  farce 4 2; 

51.  Fisherman’s  Luck,  Eth.  sketch.  ..  2 
152.  Fun  in  a Cooper’s  Shop,  Eth.sketch  6 
106.  Gambrinus,  King  of  Lager.  Beer, 

Eth.  burlesque,  2 scenes S J. 

157.  Gentlemen  Coon’s  Parade,  Etl\ 

musical  sketch 3 

83.  German  Emigrant,  Dutch  sketch.  2 \\ 
77.  Getting  Square  on  the  Cali  Boy,, 
Eth.sketch 3 

17.  Ghost  (The),  Eth.  sketch 2 

58.  Ghost  in  a Pawn  Shop,  Eth.  sketcl  1 4 \ 

31.  Glycerine  Oil,  Eth.  sketch,  2 sc  . . 3 
20.  Going  for  the  Cup,  Eth.  interlude , 4 

82.  Good  Night’s  Rest,  sketch 3 

130.  Go  and  Get  Tight.  Eth.  farce 6 

86.  Gripsack  (The),  sketch 3 

70.  Guide  to  the  Stage,  Eth.  sketch. ..  3 

61.  Happy  Couple,  farce 2 'i 

142.  Happy  Uncle  Rufus,  Eth.  musical 

sketch ! 1 j 

23.  Hard  Times,  Eth.  extravaganza...  5 l 

118.  Helen’s  Funny  Babies,  Eth.  bur  l- 

lesque 6 

3.  Hemmed  In,  Eth.  sketch 3 ?' 

48.  High  Jack,  the  Heeler,  Eth.  sketch  6 
68.  Hippotheatron,  sketch |9 

150.  How  to  Pay  the  Rent,  farce 6 

71.  In  and  Out,  sketch 2 

123.  Intelligence  Office,  Eth.  sketch.,..  2 

33.  Jealous  Husband,  Eth.  sketch 2 '. 

94.  Julius  the  Snoozer,  Eth.  burlesque! 

3 scenes 6 ! 

103.  Katrina’s  Little  Game,  Dutch  act..  1 ‘ 

1.  Last  of  the  Mohicans,  Eth.  sketch.  3 1 

36.  Laughing  Gas,  Eth.  sketch .67 

161.  Limekiln  Club  in  an  Uproar  (The ), 

Eth.  farce 8 > - 

18.  Live  Injun,  Eth.  sketch,  4 scenes  4 1 

60.  Lost  Will  (The),  Eth.  sketch 4 

37.  Lucky  Job,  farce,  2 scenes 3 2 

90.  Lunatic  (The),  Eth.  farce i 3 

109.  Making  a Hit,  Eth.  farce,  2 scenef*  . 4 

19.  Malicious  Trespass,  Eth.  sketch. . 3 

149.  ’Meriky,  Eth.  farce 3 1 

151.  Micky  Free,  Irish  sketch 5 

96.  Midnight  Intruder,  farce 6 j 

147.  Milliner’s  Shop,  Eth.  sketch 2 1 

129.  Moko  Marionettes,  Eth.  eccentri'  - 

city,  2 scenes 4 6 

101.  Molly  Moriarty,  Irish  musica  l 

sketch 11 

117.  Motor  Bellows,  farce 4 

158.  Mr.  Mikado,  musical  burlesque.  . 6 4 

44.  Musical  Servant,  Eth.sketch 3 

8.  Mutton  Trial,  Eth.  sketch,  2 sc..  4 ** 

119.  My  Wife's  Visitors,  farce 6 1 


AFTER  DARK. 


OF  LONDON  LIFE  IN  1868,  IN  FOUR  ACTS. 


(Authorized  adaptation  of  Messrs.  Grange  and  Pennery’s  “ Les  Oiseaux  de  ProieA) 


By  DION  BOUCICAULT, 

Author  of  **  Arrah-na-Pogue,”  “ Flying  Scud u Jeanie  Deans,”  " Octoroon,” 
“ Foul  Play  etc 


AS  FIRST  PERFORMED  AT  THE  PRINCESS’S  THEATRE,  LONDON  (UN- 
DER THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  MR.  G.  VT.NING),  ON 
WEDNESDAY,  AUGUST  12.  1868. 


TO  WHICH  IS  ADDED 


A DESCRIPTION  OP  THE  COSTUMES — CAST  OF  THE  CHARACTERS — EN- 
TRANCES AND  EXITS — RELATIVE  POSITIONS  OF  THE  PER- 
FORMERS ON  THE  STAGE,  AND  THE  WHOLE 
OF  THE  STAGE  BUSINESS. 


I 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS . 


Princess's  Theatre , 
London , August  12,  1868. 

Old  Tom  (a  Boardman — Character  lead) Mr.  Vining. 

Chandos  Bellingham  (Man  About  Town — Juvenile  Trage- 
dian)  Mr.  Walter  Lacy. 

Dicey  Morris  (Gambling-house  Keeper— Character  Com- 
edy)   Mr.  Domnick  Murray. 

Sir  George  Medhurst  (Juvenile  lead) Mr.  Montague. 

Gordon  Chumley  (Captain  of  Dragoons— Walking  Gent.. Mr.  J.  G.  Shore. 

Pointer  (Police,  A Division— Utility) ...Mr.  W.  D.  Gresham. 

Crumpets  (Utility) . Mr.  Maclean. 

Area  Jack  (a  Night  Bird — Utility) Mr.  Holston. 

The  Bargee  (Utility) Mr.  Cathcart. 

Marker  (Utility) Mr.  Tressidder. 

Nick  (Utility) « Mr.  Chapman. 

Jem  and  Josey  (Negro  Minstrel  Bus.) Messrs.  H.  & J.  Marshall. 

Eliza  (Sir  George’s  Wife— Lead) Miss  Bose  Leclercq. 

Bose  Egerton  (Walking  Lady) Miss  Trissy  Marston. 

Police,  Servants,  Bailway  Passengers,  Beggars,  Thieves,  Gamblers,  etc. 


SCENERY. 

ACT  I. — Scene  I.  Bailway  Station  in  5th  grooves. 
5 


L,  side,  railway  station  ; doors,  marked  “ First  Class,”  “ Second  Class,  T) 
Class,”  prac. ; boards  on  the  wall,  lettered,  one  over  c.  closed  in  space,  “ Crystal  IP* 
ace,”  one  l.  2 g.  set,  “ Paris — Brighton  Baces ; ” the  closed  in  spaces  in  3d  e.  A 
form  passages  up  stage,  in  which  are  cabs  with  horses,  graduated  in  size,  for  p 
spective  effect,  with  lamps  lit,  heads  of  horses  turned  up  stage ; lamps  from  brack< 


i 


SCENERY, 


3 


with  glass  globes,  along  the  sides;  lamp-post  r.,  line  of  2d  grooves;  the  built-up 
structure  on  stage  c.  and  r.  is  10  or  12  feet  high,  giving  view  of  houses  on  flat,  and 
view  of  streets,  leading  off,  r.  on  r. ; moonlight  effect,  r.  1 e.,  upon  stage.  Roof,  l., 
building,  arched  glass-and-iron  framework,  like  the  Crystal  Palace  roofs. 

Scene  II.— Garret  Interior,  in  1st  grooves.  Dark;  shelf  n.  from  flat,  seems  to  be 
part  of  a table,  of  which  the  legs  are  painted  on  flat ; d.  r.  and  l.  in  r.  ; small 


window  R.  c.  in  f. 

Scene  III. — Gambling-house.  Interior  in  5th  grooves. 


•* -*  * 

Chairs. 

* 

' ' * 

Closed  in. 

Sideboard.  * 

1 

[£j 

Backing : 

c.1 

: 

Chair.  : 

*1 

Pictures  of  races,  prize-fights,  ballet-girls,  in  room  r.,  half  of  stage,  u.  E.,  and  on 
3 g.  flat,  l.  side  ; carpet  down  in  room  r. 


Scene  IV.— Street,  exterior  of  houses,  in  2d  cut  of  1st  grooves,  or  1st  cut  if  Scene 
V.  is  a canvas  drop ; dark. 

Scene  V . — Street  in  1st  cut  of  1st  grooves,  or  a canvas  drop ; upper  background, 
old  houses,  foreground,  open  space  left  by  houses  having  been  torn  down,  with  fence 
before  it,  on  which  are  bills,  posters,  etc. ; Temple  Bar  arch  on  the  left,  as  if  the 
stage  was  the  south  sidewalk  ; very  dark. 

Scene  VI. — Blackfriars  temporary  bridge  ; view  of  Thames  and  St.  Paul’s  in  dis- 
tance ; night.  In  7th  grooves. 


Limelight. 

' — — ■ Anchored  Lighters. 


.St.  Paul’s... 7 


{Arch  abut- 
ment.__ 


Steamboats  at  anchor.  ^ > 


Pile  of  timber. 


jTrapu 


} Platform. 

Steps.  | | | i 3 


4 


SCENER1 


Arch  crosses  stage,  high  up,  from  r.  4 e.  to  l.  u.  e.,  the  underside  being  smooth 
stone-work,  dark ; platform  l.,  to  bear  weight  of  four  or  five  men,  steps  down  to 
stage  level ; l.  wings,  thick  beams  and  trestlework  ; r.  wings,  wall,  sails  and  mast 
of  barge  r.  1 e.,  etc. ; trap  open  for  Eliza’s  fall  from  small  platform  reached  from 
larger  one ; pile  of  timber,  cordage,  chain  cables,  and  large  hewn  stone  along  4th 
grooves ; canvas  down  for  water,  4th,  5th  and  6th  e.’s  ; on  Flat,  view  of  London 
around  St.  Paul’s  by  moonlight  ; transparencies  for  light  in  house  windows,  and 
the  row  of  lamps  along  the  water-side  ; boats  at  anchor,  r.,  5th  and  6th  grooves,  ;r 
profile. 

ACT  II. --Scene  I.  Arches  under  a street,  in  3d  grooves. 


A A,  archways,  boarded  up ; archway  r.  is  open,  with  sail-cloth  curtain  to  be  let 
down,  to  cover  the  changing  of  scene  ; the  closed-in  set  gives  a view  over  the  top  of 
it  of  houses  on  flat,  as  if  high  above  stage  level. 

Scene  II. — Yilla  and  Garden  in  7th  grooves.  Sunlight  effect— summer  afternoon. 

• ...... Landscape.... 7 


River ,...6 


Closed  in. 


Open. 


; Bush  of  lilacs. 

: £ — Tree.  4 

A 

"W  indow. 


1 Door.  1 


[]  A 


i ° i 

■si 


□ — Trees  3 
A 

Garden  chair. 

□ — Trees . 2 
A 


— Trees.  1 


A.  A,  A,  statues  on  pedestals;  R.  half  of  3d  and  4th  e.  closed  in  ; villa  with 
per  stories  shown ; curtains  to  doorway  and  to  French  windows ; carpet  down  a 
furniture  inside. 


SCENERY*  5 

Scene  III. — Garden  wall,  door  inc.,  in  1st  grooves,  with  trees  on  upper  part  of 
fiat  *,  wings  of  trees  from  last  scene  left  on. 

Scene  I Y. —Interior,  4th  grooves. 

Garden 4 

Moonlight. 


Window.  | | Window 


Door. 


Chair. 


| Dressing-table. 


..3 


Sideboard. 


Chair. 


open. 


Door. 

*2 


R.  side  very  dark ; walls  panelled  in  dark  green  ; window  r.  in  f.  curtained ; win- 
dow l.  in  f.,  French,  open  to  ground ; limelight  l.  u.  e.  sends  rays  to  r.  front ; 
doors  l.  and  r.  2 e.  practicable  ; carpet  down. 

ACT  III.— Scene  I.  Interior  of  Concert  Hall,  in  6th  grooves. 


;,M*  | Door. 


Stage. 


— Wing. 

— Wing. 


*••*••*••*• 


******  Chairs. 
i~'  ' ' — ' Tables. 


* * Chairs. 


! 


I 


Billiard-table. 


cq  *||  * Chair. 


M 

chaj 


iniature  stage,  elevated,  c.  in  u,  e.,  with  row  of  footlights*,  before  it,  on  stage, 
rs  and  tables  for  audience ; chairs  about  stage ; over  d.  in  f.,  sign,  clock  face 


G 


COSTUMES. 


between  “ NO  ” and  “ TICK ; ” on  wings  l.  posters,  headed  “ Elysian  Music  Hall.” 
two  gas  burners,  with  shades  over  billiard  table,  l.  3 e. 

Scene  II.— (Preceded  by  a drop-curtain,  such  as  dark  velvet,  gold-fringed,  to  give 
time  for  the  railroad  business  to  be  ready) ; cellar  in  1st  grooves ; dark  circular  hole 
c.  inF.,  showing  through  it  the  platform  on  which  train  of  cars  cross  r.  to  l.;  only 
the  wheels  of  them  are  seen  from  front. 

Scene  III.— Railway  Tunnels,  in  6th  grooves. 


6 


B : Closed  in.  : B : 5 

: | : Backing. : 

= = |A| .4 

* Rails. 


Wall. 


Wall  — 3 


Wall  - 2 


Wall  — 1 


ment  Tom  and  Chumley  are  clear,  run  the  train  across ; decline  the  rails  to  l.  till 
at  wing,  then  give  it  an  uprise  abruptly  to  check  it  in  a few  yards ; curtain  will  tail 
quick,  and  not  rise. 

ACT  IV.— Scene.  Same  as  Scene  II.,  Act  II. 


COSTUMES , ( English , Resent  day,) 


Old  Tom.  -Aged  forty-five,  but  looks  older ; gray  hair,  short  gray  moustache ; blue 
cap,  ragged  suit ; old  shoes  tied  with  colored  strings.  Act  IV.:  Fine  black 
suit,  cane,  hat ; he  limps  slightly,  throughout , shuffling  walk. 
Bellingham.— Black  moustache;  -white  overcoat,  light;  black  hat;  black  elit; 


PROPERTIES. 


t 


white  vest ; gloves ; sporting- man  type ; watch  and  chain ; finger-ring ; breast- 
pin. 

Morris.— Jew;  side-whiskers;  blue  velvet  figured  vest,  showy  watch-chain,  with 
charms;  black  cutaway  coat;  riding  trousers;  black  hat,  turned  up  at  the 
sides,  pinched  down  before  and  behind,  cocked  over  one  eye  when  worn ; bald 
on  top  of  head ; fancy  scarf ; fancy  pocket-handkerchief ; the  personator  will 
find7 it  advisable  to  study  it  up  as  a leading  character ; Mr.  Lomnick  Murray’s 
imitation  of  the  salient  peculiarities  of  the  low-lived  London  Jews-  speech 
and  mannerism  having  strengthened  the  attractions  and  made  a perceptible 
proportion  of  the  audience  be  of  that  race. 

Gordon  Chumley.— Black  suit;  watch  and  chain;  moustache,  heavy,  without 
points. 

Medhurst. — Act  I. : London  cabman  ; long  coat  with  cape ; low-crowned  felt  hat ; 
whip.  Afterwards,  black  suit,  white  vest. 

Pointer. — Policeman ; (see  London  Illustrated  News  ;)  the  helmet  to  be  worn— not 
the  “ City  Police  hat.” 

Area  Jack,  Crumpets,  Bargee  and  Outcasts.— Ragged  dresses ; hair  short  crop, 
with  three-inch  long  side  lock  flattened  down  on  the  side  of  temple,  or  slightly- 
curled  at  the  point. 

Jem  and  Josey.— Negro  minstrels ; striped  pants,  colored  stockings ; fancy  vests 
and  coats  ; white  hats  ; banjo  and  bones. 

Marker.— Black  suit ; French  moustache,  pointed ; white  tie  ; sporting  style. 

Servant. — Act  11— Scene  II. : Lark  livery. 

Policemen. — Like  Pointer. 

Gamblers.— Usual  walking  dress. 

Audience  of  Music  Hall— Usual  dress. 

Eliza.—  Act  1.  and  II. : Faded  dress  ; bonnet  and  shawl.  Act  II.—  Scene  IV. : White 
dress— much  like  Rose’s.  Act  IV. : Fine  house  dress. 

Rose. — Act  I. : Walking  dress,  hat  and  mantle.  Afterwards,  white,  or  other  color 
to  suit. 

Girls  for  Music  Hall  audience— As  usual ; hair  fancifully  done  up ; hats  showy. 

Beggar-woman.— As  usual. 


PR  OPER  TIES,  [See  Scenery'). 


Act  1.  Scene  I. : Cabs  and  horses ; board  with  posters  on  it  (“  Elysium  Music  Hall- 
Great  Attraction — The  Original  Tommy  Lodd,”  etc.) ; with  iron  rods,  ending 
in  a curved  fork  by  which  they  are  attached  to  Tom’s  shoulders  ; long  whip, 
with  short  lash,  for  Medhurst;  match-boxes  for  Boy;  club  for  Pointer; 
com  for  Morris-,  and  for  Bellingham;  newspaper  for  Morris.  Scene  ll.: 
Candle  to  burn ; whistle  for  Bellingham  to  blow ; matches  to  light.  Scene  111. : 
Pack  of  cards ; dice  and  cups,  on  table  ; bottles,  decanters,  glasses,  meat  in 
dishes,  ham,  chicken,  plates,  knives,  forks  and  spoons,  on  cloth  on  sideboard ; 


coin  and  bankbills  for  Gamblers  ; four-branch  gaselier  in  room 
Com  for  Chumley  ; bull’s-eye  lantern  for  Pointer  ; several  gunny  bags  and 
pieces  of  sail-cloth  for  beds ; red  lamn  to  bridge  ».  . oars  and  boat-hook  foi 
boat.  Act  II.— Scene  I : Barrel  for  table : stool;  bottle  and  pewter  pint  pot 

on  barrel-head  , pipe  ; sheet  of  paper,  “ Stick  No the  rest  torn  off,  stuck 

on  flat,  c. ; curtain  of  sail-cloth  to  recess  r.  ; bed  for  recess  card-case  an* 
hard  for  Chumley.  Scene  II.:  Statues  garden-seat.  Am,  777  . Watch  lot 
“a  Bellingham.  Scene  IV.:  Dressing-table,  with  s-wine-frlass 
le  bottles,  etc.,  on  it;  sideboard,  tables,  chairs;  candle  to  burn,  in  silvet 


8 


STAGE  DIRECTIONS. 


holder  • necklace  and  wreath  of  orange  flowers,  to  fit  Eliza.  Act  111.  — Scent 
1.;  Chairs  tables;  liquor  bar;  billiard-table,  cues  and  balls,  sheet  of  paper 
lor  Bellingham  , bank  bills  for  Chcmley  m pocket-bcok ; bag  to  put  ever 
Tom’s  head.  Scene  11. : Bar  to  d.  in  f.  to  come  off;  steps  to  enable  Tom  to 
reach  hole  in  flat.  Scene  ill. : Stones  to  be  pushed  out  of  their  places,  l.  in 
flat.  Act  IV. . Cane  for  Tom  ; bell  to  nng  off  r.  u.  e. 


TIME  OF  PLAYING-THREE  HOURS. 


1*5"  Notice.— The  Railway  effect  is  not  derived  from  Mr.  Daly’s  “ Under  the 
Gaslight,”  but  is  a London  stage  machinist’s  invention  of  as  early  a date  as  1843. 


EXPLANATION  OF  THE  STAGE  DIRECTIONS. 


The  Actor  is  supposed  to  face  the  Audience. 


d.  r.  c. 


c.  D. 


r>.  l.  o. 


R.  U.  E. 


SCENE. 


L.  U.  E. 


L.  3 E. 


R.  13. 


L.  1 E. 


R.  0. 


a. ' 

AUDIENCE. 


h.  0. 


L. 


l.  Left. 

l.  c.  Left  Centre. 

l.  1 e.  Left  First  Entrance. 

l.  2 e.  Left  Second  Entrance. 

l.  3 e.  Left  Third  Entrance. 

l.  u.  e.  Left  Upper  Entrance 


L. 


r.  1 e.  Right  First  Entrance. 
r.  2 e.  Right  Second  Entrance. 
r.  3 e.  Right  Third  Entrance. 
r.  u.  E.  Right  Upper  Entrance^ 
D,  r.  c.  Door  Right  Centre. 


o.  Centre. 

r.  Right. 


(wherever  this  Scene  may  be.) 
n.  l.  c.  Door  Left  Centre. 


AFTER  DARE, 


ACT  I.' 

SCENE  I. — Exterior  of  Victoria  Railway  Station  f London.  sCtasdown  in 
upper  entrances , l.  and  r.  f 

Discover  Gentlemen  and  Ladies  passing  on  and  off  by  the  various  entran- 
ces, separately,  two  by  two  ; walking  slowly  or  briskly , forming  groups , 
etc.  Man  selling  umbrellas  goes  from  party  to  party. 

Match-seller  {repeats).  Box  o’  lights  ! box  o’  lights,  sir  ? cigar- 
lights  ! {and  goes  about  stage  during  opening.) 

Common  liand-bell,  large , rings,  off  l.  Commissionaries  are  called  by  Gentle- 
men and  take  notes  or  small  parcels  from  them,  etc.  Railway  porters 
cross  stage  from  l.  and  exit  r.  Policeman  enters  r.  and  exit  l.  1 e. 

Enter , l.  3 e , from  Station,  Chandos  Bellingham,  coming  down  c.,  slowly. 
Enter  same  Dicey  Morris,  with  a party  of  Girls  and  Men,  whom  he 
quits  at  r.,  they  going  off  r.  2 e. 

Boy  {to  Bellingham,  c.).  Box  o’  lights,  sir?  only  one  penny,  sir. 

Bel.  What’s  that  you  say  ? {rouses  himself)  Only  one  penny  ? Here, 
confound  you ! there’s  sixpence  for  you  ! (Boy  takes  coin , touches  his 
cap,  and  goes  up  c.)  Be  off  with  you  ! {aside)  That’s  my  last  sixpence  ; — 
it  shrank  into  a corner  like  a deer,  in  my  pocket.  (Morris  comes  down  to- 
wards Belltngham)  Well,  it  little  matters  when  I am  so  unlucky. 
Morris.  Ah  ! Mr.  Bellingham  ! 

Bel.  Dicey  Morris  ! 

Mor.  Down  on  your  luck,  Chandos,  old  friend?  (l.  of  Bellingham.) 
Bel.  Yes,  I backed  Lady  Elizabeth,  and  she  has  let  us  all  in.  If  I 
hadn’t  had  my  “ return,”  I should  have  had  to  walk  home. 

Mor.  So  should  I. 

Bel.  What  did  you  back  ? 

Mor.  Blue  Gown.  Blue  Petticuts ! wager  on  the  feminines,  and 
you’re  sure  to  come  to  grief.  So,  Chandos,  my  boy,  you  are  a broken 
man?  Well,  I'll  mend  you!  I’ll  put  you  into  a trick!  I’ll  make  your 
hair  regularly  stand  up  on  end  ! {produces  newspaper)  I wish  I my  die  if 
1 don’t  ! Just  throw  your  eye  over  that ! The  second  column— the  sen- 
sation column  ! (Bellingham  takes  paper .) 

Bel.  {reads).  “ George  Medhurst.— £50  reward  will  be  paid  to  any 
one  giving  information  of  this  gentleman.  He  is  said  to  have  emigrated 
for  Canada  or  Australia,  in  1856.  Apply  to  G.  C.,  Grosvenor  HoteC Pim- 
lico.’ What  does  this  mean,  Dicey  1 Do  you  know  of  the  man  1 


10 


AFTER  DARK. 


Mor.  It  means  pounds  sterling,  and  I can  lay  my  hand  on  the  man 
this  blessed  minute.  Vy,  I could  have  transported  him  three  yearsh 
ago  ! and  he  knowsh  it ! {all  off,  stage  cleared  at  back .) 

Bel.  What  has  he  done  I 

Mor.  Forgery ! He  put  his  father’s  name  to  a bit  of  paper,  sen’  I may 
live  if  he  didn’t ! ;r 

Bel.  But  may  he  not  know  of  this  I 

Mor.  Not  likely!  I’ll  show  you  him  ! {goes  to  r.  1 e.^AII  the  other 
characters  have  gone  off  during  the  above)  Hillo ! here ! hi,  come  here, 
^hansom  cabby ! _ Come  here  ! 


Enter,  r.  1 e.,  Medhurst,  with  whip  in  hand* 

im  WaII  nrBnf  a ttaii  nro  4 0 


Medhurst.  Well,  what  do  you  want  I 

Mor.  What  do  I want  I have  you  forgotten  me,  eh  1 

Med.  Forgotten  you,  Dicey  Morris  ! No  ! {sullenly)  Not  since  that  day 
when  you  called  me  out  of  the  rank  in  the  Haymarket,  and  I came  like  a 
dog  to  your  call ! And  now  that  you  have  got  me,  what  do  you  want 
of  me  I 

Mor.  There’ish  gratitude  for  you!  Just  throw  your  eye  over  this! 
{offers  paper)  Look  at  it ! look  at  it ! 

Med.  {with  newspaper ).  “ £50  reward — George  Medhurst.”  Why, 
what  does  this  mean  I 

Mor.  It  meansh  that  the  police  want  to  find  out  about  that  forgery  bu- 
siness. But  it  won’t  work.  You  come  to  me  to-night  at  my  place  in 
Little  Rupert  street,  and  meanwhile  I’ll  see  the  gent  what  holds  that 
forged  paper. 

Med.  I will  come,  don  t doubt,  {aside)  For  i must ! 

Mor.  By  the  way,  where  are  you  living  now  I 

Med.  5 1-2  Campton  Mews. 

Mor.  Same  place.  And  how  ish  Mrs.  Hayward — pretty  well  1 

Med.  Yes. 

Mor.  That’sh  right,  {exit  Medhurst,  r.  1 e.)  that’sh  right ! {quickly  to 
Bellingham)  There  ! that’sh  the  heir  to  a barrow knightcy  and  five  tousand 
a year,  a-driving  a night-cab  and  picking  up  hish  living  in  the  shtreets. 
There’sh  not  much  fear  of  him  going  near  “ G.  C.”  or  the  Grosvenor 
Hotel. 

Bel.  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  me,  Dicey  1 What  do  you  want 
with  me,  when  you  have  got  him  in  your  power  1 You  wouldn’t  take  me 
in  as  a partner,  and  show  up  the  good  thing  to  me  without  security. 
Come,  what’s  your  game  1 

Mor.  Well,  Chandos,  my  boy,  you  know,  eight  year  ago,  when  you 
wash  transpor — 1 mean,  when  you  emigrated  to  Australia,  1 called  on 
you  at  your  lodgings.  You  were  living  then  in  Pentonville,  with  such  a 
fine  lady  and  a little  girl ! 

Bel.  And  I asked  you,  if  anything  should  happen  to  me,  to  take  care 
of  that  child ! 

Mor.  I did  take  care  of  her — wish  I may  die  if  I didn’t ! I brought  her 
up  like  a lady,  like  a lady,  Bellingham — and,  when  she  grew  up,  I made 
her  one  of  my  bar-maids 

Bel.  Ah  ! what  became  of  her  1 r 

Mor.  Why  that  man  you  just  saw,  fell  in  love  with  her  at  my  pla^e, 
and  married  her  ! {rubs  his  hands  in  glee.) 

Bel.  Married  her  ? 


* Medhurst. 


Morris. 


Bellingham* 

L.  0. 


y 


Mor.  {startled).)  Yes,  married  your  child,  and  he's  heir  to  five  t’ou- 
sand  a year  ! \ 

Bel.  But  she  was  not  my  child  ! __  ^ 

Mor.  Not  your  child?  oh,  then,  it’sh  all  off — it’sh  all  off. ’"I  don’t 
want  you  in  the  bishinessh  at  all  ? 

Bel.  What ! you  don’t  see  your  way  to  more  than  one  thousand  pounds  ? 
Pshaw  ! you  hold  in  your  hands  the  fair  fame  and  honor  of  an  old 
county  family,  and  you  cannot  plan  to  squeeze  more  that  a paltry  one 
thousand  pounds  out  of  it  ? ( crosses  r.)  Dicey,  you  are  a low,  contempti- 
ble fellow. 

Mor.  I am,  lam!  I wish  I may  die  if  I ain’t ! (l.  c.) 

Bel.  One  thousand  pounds  ; say  five  thousand  ! 

Mor.  Five  t’ousand  ! you  take  my  breath  away. 

Bel.  Leave  the  game  in  my  hands,  (l.) 

Mor.  Yesh,  yesh ! you  go  see  this  “ G.  C.”  at  the  Grosvenor  Hotel, 
Chandos,  my  dear,  {goes  l.  with  Bellingham)  I’ll  wait  at  the  station  here 
for  you.  {Exit  Bellingham,  l.  3 e.  Morris  goes  up  c.,  writing  in  note- 
book, studying  the  newspaper , etc.  Music . lively . Laughter , off  l.^ 


Enter , l.  1 e.,  Old  Tom,  followed  by  'Boys,  laughing  at  and  hooting  at  him .* 


Boys.  Ha,  ha  ! only  twig  him,  ha,  ha  ! 

First  B.  I say,  Tom,  how  does  it  feel  in  the  high  wind  ? {laugh.) 

Second  B.  He’s  been  a-dining  with  the  Lord  Mayor  ! {all  laugh.) 

First  B.  Don’t  you  know  ? He’s  sent  out  as  a sample  of  the  liquor 
they  sell  at  the  Elysium  ! (Tom  to  lampost,  r.) 

Mor.  My  establishment,  {comes  down  c.)  What’s  that  about  the  Ely- 
sium ? {sees  Tom)  One  of  my  bill-boards.  This  is  the  way  my  advertis- 
ing is  done. 

Enter,  l.  1 e.,  Pointer. 


Pointer  {driving  Boys  up  c.).  Move  on ! move  on,  there,  can’t  you ! 
(c.  l.  of  Morris.) 

First  Boy.  You’d  better  keep  your  h’eye  on  him,  “ Robert!  ” he’s  go- 
ing to  make  a hole  in  the  water  ! {all  laugh.) 

Point.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourselves  to  go  and  worry  the 
poor  old  man  so.  (Tom  leans  against  lamp  post  r.  and  sings  drunkenly  to 
himself  ) 

First  B.  You  stick  to  him,  bobby  ! and  don’t  you  leth’anybody  touch 
him  ! Vy,  he’s  sent  out  by  the  Temperance  Society  as  a speciraent  of 
the  Last  Stage  of  ’Toxication  ! (Pointer  crosses  to  Boys,  they  run  off  l.  1 
E.,  he  seizes  one.) 

Boy  {seized  by  Pointer  crying).  It  wasn’t  me ! it  was  the  other  boys  ! 
(Pointer  and  Boys  off  l.  1 e.,  they  laughing  and  shouting.') 

Mor.  I’ll  report  this  fellow  for  disgracing  my  bill-boards  ! {to  Tom) 
What’s  your  name  ? 

Tom.  I ain’t  got  a name  ! 

Mor.  Come,  drop  it ! drop  it ! That  won’t  do  with  me.  Why  thosch 
boysh  just  now  called  you  Old  Tom  ! 

Tom.  Because  I live  on  Old  Tom ! Old  Tom  for  breakfast,  Old  Tom 
for  dinner,  Old  Tom  for  supper  ha,  ha  ! It  keeps  the  rain  out  and  I 
don’t  feel  hungry.  Gin,  gin  ! give  us  the  coppers  for  half  a quartern  ! 
(r.  c .,  front.) 


♦Tom. 

B.  0. 


Morrts. 
C.  up. 


Boys. 


12 


AFTER  DARK. 


Mor.  Poor  fellow,  poor  old  fellow  ! I pities  him — I pities  him,  I actually 
does ! 

Tom  {starts).  You  pity  me  ? you?  you,  Dicey  Morris,  that  keeps  the 
Silver  Hell  in  Rupert  street  and  the  Elysium  Music  Hall  over  the  wa- 
ter ! Oh,  I know  you ! I lost  my  last  sovereign  over  your  tables,  and  my 
last  sixpence  over  your  pewter-bar.  And  you  pity  me!  You,  who 
picked  me  up  out  of  the  gutter,  and  clothed  me  in  the  rags  that  you  keep 
for  your  customers — the  livery  of  sin  and  degradation  ! I must  be  the 
meanest  wretch  in  all  the  town  to  deserve  pity  from  you. 

Mor.  {testily).  Hold  your  row  ! what  are  you  making  such  a row 
about  ? There’s  a shilling,  {offers  coin)  Go  and  drink  it. 

Tom.  A shilling  ! a shilling  taken  over  your  tables,  may  be  the  last 
drop  of  some  poor  devil’s  blood,  or  the  only  coin  of  some  shop-boy,  sto- 
len from  his  master’s  till  to  feed  one  of  the  painted  jades  of  your 
Elysium ! Ah  I take  it  from  you,  Dicey  Morris  ? No!  it  would  choke 
me!  {goes  r.) 

Mor.  Refuse  a shilling!  It’s  shocking  what  intemperance  will  bring 
a fellow  to  1 I can’t  make  him  out ! I never  come  across  such  a strange 
fellow. 

Up  G.,  meeting  Bellingham,  Gordon  Chumley  and  Rose  Egerton,  who 
enter  l.  3 e.* 

Bel.  I beg  to  present  to  you  my  friend,  Mr.  Morris — one  who  has 
been  a friend  to  Mr.  Medhurst  in  adversity,  {to  Morris)  These  are 
friends  of  our  dear  George. 

Mor.  {salutes  vulgarly  to  Rose).  Ah,  ah!  a friend  of  Mr.  Medhurst — 
dear  me  ! (c.  l.  of  Bellingham.) 

Rose  {simply).  Oh ! yes,  we  are  cousins,  and  were  brought  up  to- 
gether in  childhood. 

Mor.  I might  have  known  it  by  the  likeness  ! (Bellingham  pushes 

him  r.) 

Bel.  {aside).  Don’t  make  a fool  of  yourself!  {aloud  to  Morris)  And 
this  is  Captain  Gordon  Chumley.  (Chumley  salutes , and  Morris  lifts  his 
hat  awkwardly.) 

Chumley  {aside).  He  looks  like  a Jew  horse-dealer.  As  for  the  other, 
I cannot  make  him  out ; I have  seen  his  face  somewhere  before,  {aloud) 
T think,  Mr.  Bellingham,  that  we  have  met.  Was  it  in  India  or  the 
' Crimea  ? 

Bel.  {as  if  surprised).  Neither. 

Chum.  Then  were  you  ever  in  Australia  ? 

Mor.  {aside).  Rather  ! something  like  seven  years ! 

Bel.  Never! 

Chum.  Ah,  it’s  very  odd,  I beg  your  pardon. 

Bel.  Don’t  mention  it.  But  we  are  forgetting  our  friend  Medhurst. 

Rose.  I bring  news  to  him.  Poor  old  Sir  John  has  died. 

Mor.  Died!  Then  he  has  come  in  for  the  money!  (Bellingham 
silences  him  with  a look.) 

Rose.  Yes,  Sir  John  at  the  last  has  forgiven  him. 

Chum.  But,  conditionally.  Remembering  the  wildness  of  his  youth, 
he  imposes  upon  him  a proviso.  He  must  marry  to  gain  the  estate. 

Mor.  I call  that  very  unkind  for  a forgiving  father. 


Bel.  {aside  to  Morris).  Hold  your  tongue!  {aloud  to  Chumley)  Oj 
that  condition,  eh  ? 


* Morris, 

xuc. 


Bellingham. 

o. 

\ i G * 


Chumley. 


L.  O. 


Rose, 


ACT  I. 


IB 


Chum.  That  he  marries  Ills  cousin.  If  he  refuses,  all  the  property 
goes  to  her.  A most  painful  position  for  the  young  lady,  very  painful. 

Mor.  I don’t  see  it ; not  for  her.  She  ish  safe  to  have  her  share  any- 
how. 

Bel.  ( aside  to  Morris).  Will  you  keep  quiet ! 

Chum.  It  is  not  probable  that  Mr.  Medhurst  will  rebel  against  the  con- 
dition. 

Bel.  {to  Rose).  They  say  that  there  is  no  husband  like  the  reformed 
rake.  I trust  that  George  will  prove  no  exception  to  the  rule.  Madam, 
your  servant  ! we  will  go  and  be  the  first  to  break  the  good  fortune  to 
George,  {takes  Morris  r.) 

Mor.  {aside  to  Bel.).  Now  it’s  all  up ! 

Bel.  Better  than  I hoped. 

Mor.  But  he  is  already  married. 

Bel.  His  wife  must  disappear. 

Mor.  I wish  she  may  die  if  she  don’t ! [Exit,  with  Bellingham,  r.  1 e. 

Chum.  Ah,  it’s  awfully  hard  on  me,  Rose,  to  have  to  see  you  for  the 
last  time  and  say  good-by.  (Tom  goes  to  sleep  at  foot  of  lampost,  r.) 

Rose.  You  are  not  going  to  leave  me  all  alone  in  London  'l 

Chum.  George  will  soon  come  to  claim  his  bride. 

Rose.  Oh,  when  we  tell  him  all,  that  I — I s __ 

Chum.  You  love  me  1 I feared  as  much,  while  I hoped.  You  might 
have  spared  me  that,  my  task — our  task — was  hard  enough  before.  But 
his  father  has  pointed  out  the  only  way  to  restore  him  to  his  true  position  in 
t lie  world.  . There  can  be  no  one  to  aid  him  like  you.  (Tom  rises  and 
staggers  down  to  Chumley’s  right,  at  c.,  during  following)  Ask  me  to  help 
you  in  what  is  so  right,  and  not  to  turn  from  you  till  all  that  is  done.  So 
much  is  duty — and  pleasant  so  far.  To  part  from  you  will  be  so  hard, 
now  that  I know  that  you  love  me.  {sees  Tom)  What  do  you  want 

Tom.  {very  drunkenly).  I saw  talking  with  them — them!  {jerks  his  hand 
towards  r.  1 e.)  Don’t  have  nothing  to  do  with  them  ! nothing  to  do. 

Chum.  Why,  the  man’s  drunk,  {to  Rose,  l.  front.) 

Tom  {starts).  Ehl  {sobered  somewhat.)  It’s  Gordon  Cnumley. 

Chum,  {amazed).  You  know  me! 

Tom  {aside).  He  has  forgotten  me.  No  wonder  ! I have  almost  forgot- 
ten myself.  ( pathetically)  Never  mind,  never  mind  L 


Enter  Pointer,  l.  1 e. 


( 

\ 


Pointer.  Come,  move  on  ; this  won’t  do.  {pushing  Tom  r.) 

Tom  {whining).  I wasn’t  begging. 

Chum,  {to  Rose).  Stay  ! I know  him  now.  He  was  an  old  brother- 
officer  of  mine. 

Point,  {to  Tom).  Come,  be  off. 

Tom.  I’m  a-going,  ain’t  1 1 

Chum.  Stay  ! (Pointer  goes  up  r.  c.  a little.  Chumley  crosses  to  Tom, 
r c.  front)  I know  you,  don’t  1 1 You  are 

Tom  {screams).  Ah,  don’t  speak  it,  don’t  speak  it ! Don’t  say  my  name. 
{whining)  I am  Old  Tom,  Old  Tom  ! [Music. 

Point.  Be  off  with  you  ! ( pushes  Tom  off  r.  1 e.,  and  follows  him  off.) 

Chum.  Poor  old  Frank  ; has  he  come  to  this  1 What  a depth  of  mis- 
ery. Look,  Rose  ; he  used  to  be  the  handsomest  and  gayest  in  the  regi- 
ment, the  pride  of  the  mess.  It  is  to  save  George  from  a fate  like  that, 


*Tom. 

K'OfQ. 


Chumley. 

c. 


Rose. 
Jj.  c. 


14 


ATI  Eli  DARK. 


we  are  working ! For  his  sake  ( drawing  Rose  to  c.  up)  we  must  keep 
our  word,  (c.,  with  Rose.  Scene  closes  in. 

SCENE  II. — Garret , Interior  in  1st  grooves.  Gas  down.  Music  throughout . 

Music  hurried. 

Enter,  l.  d.  in  f.,  Medhurst. 

Medhurst.  Eliza,  Eliza ! 

Enter , r.,  Eliza,  with  lighted  candle . Gas  up. 

Med.  Has  no  one  been  here  1 

Eliza.  No  ; what  brin-gs  you  home  so  early  1 ( puts  candle  on  shelf.) 

Med.  I have  had  an  accident  with  the  cab. 

Eliza.  An  accident ! You  are  not  hurt,  George  ! 

Med.  Come  here,  Eliza.  ( both  at  c.)  I am  compelled  to  leave  London 
this  night.  Even  now  there  may  be  hunters  on  my  track.  I am  going 
to  see  Morris,  who  will  assist  me  in  my  escape. 

Eliza.  Morris!  my  old  employer,  Morris  1 Oh,  George,  don’t  trust 
him ! 

Med.  I must ! I have  no  choice  ! 

Eliza  Oh,  what  have  you  done  I 

Med.  What  I never  had  heart  to  tell  to  you.  That’s  why  I have  been 
forced  to  go  creeping  out  after  dark,  driving  a night  cab  for  fear  that  I 
would  be  seen — leading  a dog’s  life,  which  you  consented  to  share  ! 

Eliza.  What  better  have  1 ever  known!  You  found  me  a nameless 
child  ! and  I never  asked  more  than  to  have  you  my  own  ! and  yc«  are 
my  own,  George,  {embraces.) 

Med.  In  the  depth  of  my  misery  there  was  a deeper  still  which  I have 
forborne  to  confide  to  you.  Pardon  me  for  having  deceived  you. 

Eliza.  You  have  not  deceived  me  in  your  love  ! What  do  I care  for 
the  rest ! 

Med.  I hear  steps  by  the  door.  You  do  not  expect  anyone  at  this 
hour  ! 

Eliza.  No  ! Shade  the  light ! (Medhurst  covers  the  candle , Eliza  to 
window  c.  in  f.)  There  are  men  below  who  seem  to  be  looking  up  here. 

Med.  I must  escape  by  the  other  way.  ( from  tins,  very  hurried)  Gain 
what  time  you  can.  Put  out  the  light ! (Eliza puts  out  candle.  Gas  down, 
three-quarter  turn)  Footsteps  on  the  stairs  ! {embraces  her)  Farewell ! this 
may  be  our  parting  kiss.  Good-by,  Good-by.  {rushes  off  r.,  knock  l.  d 
in  f.) 

Eliza.  Ah!  {slowly  goes  to  l.  d.  in  f.,  and  opens  it.) 

Enter  Bellingham,  l.  d.  in  f. 

Bel.  Where  is  you  husband  I 

Eliza.  He  has  not  yet  returned  from  work. 

Bel.  That  is  false,  for  h?  was  here  not  ten  minutes  ago.  I will  see  if 
he  is  concealed  on  the  premises,  {blows  whistle  at  window  in  f.  Pause 
blow  whistle  off  b.  2 e.)  He  has  escaped  by  the  bnck  yard,  and  will  b< 
soon  at  Morris’s.  You  can  light  the  candle  again.  He’s  safe  enough 
You  see  that  I know  more  of  your  husband’s  doings  than  you  do. 

Eliza.  Who  are  you  ! friend  or  foe  1 {lights  candle . Gas  up.) 

Bel.  Look  and  see. 

Eliza.  Richard  Knatchbull ! {chord.) 


\ 


ACT  I. 


is 


Bel.  No  longer  Dick  Knatchbull.  but  Chandos  Bellingham.  I see 
you  have  not  forgotten  me. 

Eliza.  No,  I have  not  forgotten  the  man  who  left  my  mother  die  in 


the  workhouse. 

Bel.  And  not  forgiven  me  7 

Eliza.  She  forgave  you,  long  since,  but  I never  will. 

Bel.  This  is  dutiful  language  to  hear  from  a daughter. 

Eliza.  You  are  not  my  father! 

Bel.  Ah!  you  know  that  7 Then  why  did  you  not  marry  George  Med- 
hurst  under  your  father’s  name  7 (aside).  If  you  knew  who  that  father 
was ! 

Eliza.  Because  my  mother  had  implored  me  with  her  latest  breath 
not  to  bear  the  name  which  you  had  tried  to  disgrace. 

Bel.  It  would  be  well  if  George  Medhurst  had  not  succeeded  with  g 
similar  experiment  on  his  own. 

Eliza.  What  do  you  mean*! 

Bel.  That  he  has  committed  a crime  and  may  be  forced  to  fly.  What 
would  you  do  to  save  him  7 

Eliza.  He  is  my  husband,  I would  lay  down  my  life  for  him. 

Bel.  Less  would  do.  Give  me  your  hand,  (she  offers  her  right  hand) 
The  other — the  left,  (she  holds  out  her  left  hand)  Would  you  lay  down 
this  ring — this  wedding-ring  for  his  sake  7 He  has  committed  forgery, 
the  money  can  be  obtained,  but  to  secure  his  safety,  you  must  sacrifice 
yourself. 

Eliza.  I do  not  understand. 

Bel.  It  is  necessary  that  he  should  marry  again.  Your  marriage 
was  made  under  false  names  ; you  need  only  go  abroad  and  forget  him. 

Eliza.  Forget  him  ! 

Bel.  Oh,  you  can  name  your  own  terms.  As  long  as  you  live  he  wilj 
be  at  your  mercy. 

Eliza.  I see  it  all  now.  You  want  him  to  deceive  some  innocent 
girl,  to  induce  me  to  join  you  to  commit  a bigamy  ! Has  George  agreed 


to  this  7 

Bel.  He  had  no  choice.  The  man  whose  head  is  in  the  jaws  of  New- 
gate, is  not  particular  to  a shade. 

Eliza  (aside).  This  is  the  depth  of  infamy  which  he  was  afraid  to  con- 
fide in  me.  ( wrings  her  hands.) 

Bel.  You  consent  7 

Eliza.  No ; whatever  he  may  have  done — he  is  my  husband — I will 
share  with  him,  but  I will  not  help  him  to  commit  a new  crime ! (crosses 
l.) 

Bel.  And  this  is  what  you  call  love  7 You  would  rather  see  the  man 
you  love  consigned  to  a convict  cell,  than  let  another  woman  make  him 
happy. 

Eliza  (sobbing).  I would  die  for  him,  but  I will  not  live  in  guilt. 

Bel.  Ahem!  he  has  no  alternative. 

Eliza.  But  I have ! 

Bel.  Will  you  be  silent,  at  least? 

Eliza.  He  has  cast  me  off!  I shall  be  silent  as  the  grave. 

Bel.  Hs  does  not  ask  for  your  approval.  He  will  be  content  with  your 
silence. 

Eliza.  My  silence  ! (aside,  bitterly)  My  silence  ! (dashes  l.  d.  in  f.  open) 
There’s  your  way.  Good-night. 

Bel.  (goes  to  l.  d.  in  f.,  looks  at  Eliza  in  the  eyes)  Good-night. 


[Exit,  l.  d.  in  f.,  hat  on. 

Eliza  (to  c.).  Merciful  Heavens,  what  have  I done  1 He  said  that 
might  be  our  parting  kiss.  No ; I cannot  part  from  him  like  that.  I 


\ 

I 


16 


after  dark. 


cannot  aid  him  to  commit  a wrong,  but  I can  remove  the  consequences 
of  his  fault.  I will  go  to  Morris's  and  wait  for  him  till  I see  him.  Oh,  I 
must  see  him  again.  Where  is  my  bonnet  and  shawl  1 ( takes  candle  to  r. 
d.  in  f.,  passes  it  off  behind , after  getting  hat  and  shawl.  Gas  down)  Yes,  I 
shall  see  him  again,  and  then — oh,  George  ! ( sobbing  repeats)  Oh,  George ! 
oh,  George ! [Exit,  l.  d.  in  f. 

Scene  changes  to 


SCENE  III. — Gambling  House.  Interior.  Gas  up. 


Discover  Dicey  Morris,  r.  c.,  coming  down , apparently  in  impatience. 
Gamblers  throwing  dice , around  table  up  r.  c.  Doorkeeper  seated  at 
L.  D.  in  f.  Waiter  by  sideboard. 

Marker  (up  r.  c.).  Seven’s  the  main  ! (refer  to  the  “ Rules  for  Playing 
Hazard and  play  the  game  properly  during  the  business  by  the  other  perform- 
ers in  front.) 

Second  Gam.  Five ! 

First  Gam.  Six!  ^ 

Morris  (aside).  Not  here  yet.  What  is  Bellingham  up  to  1 He’s  al 
most  as  close  as  I am;  ’wish  he  may  die  if  he  ain’t ! And  the  cabman , 
he’s  to  come  at  eleven  ! and  no  signs  of  him  yet. 

Marker.  Ten’s  the  nick. 

Mor.  (aside).  What’s  he  about  1 is  he  going  back  on  an  old  friend  1 

Marker  (comes  down  to  Morris).  By  the  way,  sir,  I’ve  lent  Charley 
three  pounds  on  this  half  of  a five-pound  note — he  can’t  wait  till  the  rest 
comes  up  by  post. 

Mor.  What  I why,  he’s  borrowed  three  pounds  of  me  on  the  other 
half.  He  s pulled  a clear  pound  off  by  the  double  transaction.  (Marker 
goes  up  to  speak  with  Gamblers,  who  laugh  at  the  trick)  That’s  the  worst 
of  my  customers — there’s  nothing  honorable  about  them. 

Marker  (comes  down,  aside  to  Morris).  That  fellow’s  still  winning ; 
we’ve  lost  thirty  pounds. 

Mor.  Bring  out  the  loaded  dice.  What  are  you  doing  I Do  you 
want  to  ruin  me  I (Marker  goes  up  r.  c.) 


Enter,  l.  d.,  Medhurst. 


Med.  (to  Morris).  I am  followed! 

Mor.  Of  course  you  are!  It’s  all  right ; it  shows  how  much  you  are 
looked  after  since  you've  come  into  your  fortune,  (cads)  Waiter,  waiter ! 
bring  a glass  of  champagne  for  this  gentleman.  (Waiter  brings  glass, 
and  Medhurst  drinks.) 

Med.  It’s  so  long  since  I drank  champagne,  I scarcely  know  the  taste 
of  it. 

Mor.  Well,  I’ve  been  to  the  city  and  seen  the  gentleman — oh,  he’s 
very  reasonable — he  seesh  that  I was  right  when  I said — you’ll  pay  him  ; 
only  give  him  time — give  him  time. 

Med.  Come  into  my  fortune  I Then  my  father  is  dead  I 

Mor.  Yes,  you  are  Sir  George  now  ! As  good  a name  as  ever  wash 
known,  and  <£6000  a year! 

Med.  1 see  now  what  you  want  with  me  ! What  is  your  price  foy 
that  paper  1 

Mor.  The  gentleman  that  holdsh  it  has  the  conscience  to  ask  half  tq^ 


Med.  £30001 

Mor.  £3000!  Isn’t  it  perfectly  disgraceful! 


So  I tells  him  ; but  thej 


j 


ACT  I. 


17 


what  would  be  the  use  of  the  whole  if  he  brought  you  to  trial  ? Better 
half  the  fortune  than  all  and  you  go  to  Newgate  ! 

Med.  1 believe  you  hold  the  document  yourself! 

Mor.  Ish  it  me  ? 

Med.  Then  why  don’t  your  friend  come  forward  for  himself  ? 

Mor.  That  would  be  compounding  a felony ! And  he  ish  a shentle- 
mans,  moves  in  the  same  society  as  myself ; a man  of  high  prinshiples ! 
high  prinshiples,  I tell  you  ! high  prinshiples'. 

Med.  I suppose  I must  consent. 

Mor.  Of  course,  of  course,  there’sh  no  other  way  out  of  it.  After 
nil,  you’ve  got  the  other  half — I calls  it  downright  generous  of  him,  down- 
right generous. 

Med.  {aside).  I am  in  their  power.  Oh,  then  I will  be  free  ! free  from 
these  villains,  and  that  will  be  the  best  of  all.  {aloud)  You  are  not  de- 
ceiving me  ? 

Mor.  Sen’  I may  live  ! I look  like  deceiving  a baronet ! What’ll  you 
have — some  money  ? Five  pounds — ten — fifty  ? Here,  Marker  give  this 
gentleman  fifty  pounds.  ( takes  Medhitrst  up  c.)  Renew  the  acquain- 
tance of  the  bones  ! 

Marker.  Eight’s  the  main.  Here’s  the  fifty,  sir. 

Med.  {aside).  Fifty  pounds  ! fifty  devils  ! ( pats  notes  on  corner  of 
table.) 

Mor.  That’s  right,  George,  my  boy.  Go  in  ! you’re  sure  to  win  ! 
{music.) 

Med.  How’s  the  game,  gentlemen  {somewhat  drunk.) 

Mor.  {aside).  It’s  all  right.  If  Bellingham  has  only  done  his  bit  as 
well.  Where  can  he  be  1 {aloud  to  Medhurst  who  comes  down)  That’s 
the  way,  that’s  the  way,  George,  my  boy,  to  enjoy  yourself  ! Ah,  I hope 
to  see  you  in  another  day  or  two  tooling  a phaeton  in  the  Park  with  a 
pair  of  high  steppers,  and  with  that  lovely  girl  by  your  side. 

Med.  What  do  you  mean  1 

Mor.  I mean,  Miss  Egerton,  your  cousin.  You  can’t  have  your  prop- 
erty unless  you  marry  her  ! 

Med.  Then  it  was  left  on  condition'?  {falls  in  chair  r.  c.  front.) 

Mor.  There’s  fatherly  affection  for  you ! actually  a-spreading  sugar 
over  the  butter  ! 

Marker  {to  Medhurst).  Luck’s  turned.  Does  your  money  stand, 
sir  I 

Med.  {impatiently).  Yes,  yes  i {to  Morris)  Then  I can’t  have  it.  I 
am  already  married  to  Eliza. 

Mor.  Oh,  that  was  when  you  made  a fool  of  yourself  when  a boy. 
Done  under  false  names — it  won’t  hold  in  law.  I’ll  get  you  a lawyer’s 
opinion,  a — a — a doctor’s  certificate,  anything  you  like  ! But  you’ve 
not  had  a fair  taste  yet ! Here,  waiter,  give  the  gentleman  some  more 
champagne!  (Waiter  brings  glass  to  Medhurst  who  drinks)  That’s 
right ! you’ll  see  the  thing  in  the  right  light  now  ! 

Marker.  That  gentleman’s.  He  still  wins. 

Mor.  {pushes  Medhurst  up  to  table).  Stick  to  it,  George,  my  boy,  it’s 
all  right!  depend  upon  it,  it’ll  all  come  right!  (down  c.)  What  keeps 
Bellingham— oh,  here  he  is  ! 

Enter  Bellingham,  l.  d.  in  f. 

Bel.  {to  Morris).  You  have  him  here?  {looks  at  Medhurst  gambling 
it  table , glass  in  hand)  He  seems  sprung. 

Mor.  A little  ! I didn’t  give  him  too  much  till  you  would  be  here,  to 
see  how  you  got  on  with  the  woman. 

) 

\ 


18 


AFTER  DARK. 


Bel.  I have  seen  Eliza,  she  will  hold  her  tongue,  {to  Medhurst  com- 
ing down  c.  *)  Good  evening,  Sir  George  ! allow  me  to  congratulate  you 
on  coming  into  you  title. 

Med.  Who  is  this  gentleman? 

Mor.  The  friend  who  holds  the  forged  paper,  {introduces  them)  Ml 
Bellingham,  Mr.  Bellingham,  Mr.  Bellingham  ! 

Bel.  I’ve  explained  to  her  your  position,  and  she  recognizes  the  ne 
cessity  of  her  secrecy.  She  consents  to  disappear  and  trouble  you  n» 
more. 

Med.  Disappear  ? 

Bel.  That  is,  go  abroad. 

Med.  She  consents  to  go  from  me  ? 

Bel.  Yes  ; you  see,  I know  her  better  than  you  do. 

Mor.  There  ; ain’t  you  ashamed  of  yourself  ? I knew  she  would  act 
right.  She  was  sure  to,  or  else  she  hadn’t  got  any  principles. 

Bel.  She  sees  the  difference  in  your  stations.  How  would  you  like 
to  have  her  pointed  at  in  your  lordly  mansion,  by  her  swell  friends  of 
the  Elysium  ? It  is  all  for  the  best ; you  could  never  have  lived  happy 
with  her.  Of  course,  you’ll  pay  her  liberally,  and  she’ll  live  very  happily 
without  any  annoyance  to  you. 

Marker.  Now,  again,  sir,  at  the  game,  {to  Medhurst.' 

Med.  {half  aside).  I shall  never  love  anyone  like  her. 

Mor.  Here,  waiter,  some  more  champagne.  {Music,  11  Won’t  go  home 
till  Morning.”  Scene  closes  in.) 

SCENE  IY. — Street  in  2 d cut  of  ls£  grooves  {if  Scene  5 th  is  not  on  canvas  at 
a drop,  and  is  a scene  in  ls£  cut).  Gas  down . 

Enter  Eliza,  bonnet  and  shawl  on,  to  r.  side  of  d.  in  F. 

Eliza.  He  has  not  come  out  yet. 

Two  Gamblers  enter  d.  in  f.,  and  exit  l.  1 e. 

Patience,  patience ! 

First  Gambler  enters  d.  in  f.,  shakes  his  fist  through  open  door . 

First  Gam.  You  are  a gang  of  thieves ! Curse  me,  if  ever  I set  foot 
within  your  accursed  den  again.  It’s  regular  robbery. 

[Exit,  l.  1 e.,  furiously . 1 


Enter , D.  in  f.,  Medhurst,  drunk.  To  c.  front. 


Medhurst.  I’ll  get  a bed  at  some  hotel  for  the  night,  see  a tailor  in 
the  morning,  pass  my  head  through  Truefitt’s  hands,  and  emerge  in  the 
Parks  as  a new  man,  leading  a new  life. 

Eliza.  George  ! {chord)  Don’t  be  angry  (r.  of  Medhurst,  at  c.)  at  my 
being  here.  I could  not  think  of  parting  from  you  as  I did.  But  is  it 
true,  what  they  have  told  me  ? Must  I go  away  from  you  ? 

Med.  Yes — for  a time.  You  shall  have  everything  you  require — money, 
jewels 

Eliza.  George,  not  money  ; do  not  pay  me  for  my  love.  George,  take 
me  to  your  arms  and  ask  me  to  lay  down  my  life  for  your  happiness  and 


V 


* Medhurst. 

».  o/o. 


Morris. 

o. 


Bellingham, 
l.  of  c. 


and  I will  do  it.  Your  embrace  will  give  me  strength,  and  your  kiss 
will  seal  my  lips  forever. 

Med.  ( embraces  her).  I do  ask  you,  Eliza,  dear,  to  save  me  from  a fel- 
on’s fate.  I shall  never  care  for  anyone  but  you. 

Eliza.  I never  loved  you  more,  George,  than  now,  when  we  must  part 
forever. 

Med.  Not  forever 

Eliza.  Yes,  forever!  I do  not  forget  our  bond,  “ Till  death  do  us 
part.”  Farewell ; kiss  me — kiss  me,  George ; it  is  for  the  last  time. 

Med.  ( hisses  her).  How  cold  your  lips  are. 

Eliza  {half  aside,  going  l.).  They  will  be  colder  before  morning,  {at  l.) 
God  bless  you,  God  bless  you ! [Exit  l. 

Med.  How  strange  her  manner  is.  I didn’t  think  sbe  would  have 
taken  it  so  kindly.  She  never  said  a hard  word  to  me.  Ah,  no  one  can 
ever  love  me  as  she  has  done.  "Exit,  r. 

Scene  closes  in . 

SCENE  Y. — Street , in  1st  cut  of  ls£  grooves.  Gas  down , 

Enter , r.,  Gordon  Chumley. 

Chumley  (c.).  I cannot  rest  till  I have  seen  Frank.  What  can  have 
brought  him  to  such  a pitch  of  misery.  I appointed  to  meet  a policeman 
at  Temple  Bar*— and  here  he  comes. 

Enter  Pointer,  l. 

Pointer  {touches  hat  to  Chumley).  He  lives,  sir,  at  the  Dry  Arches, 
but  he  is  to  be  found  under  the  bridge.  He  works  on  the  river  by  night. 

Chum.  Can  you  guide  me  there  'l 

Point.  Well,  sir,  it’s  hardly  the  place  to  take  a gentleman.  The  night- 
birds  of  London  roost  there. 

Chum.  I don’t  care. 

Point.  Well,  sir,  put  your  watch-chain  in  your  pocket;  button  up 
your  coat ; if  you  have  anything  in  your  coat-pockets,  take  it  out. 

Chum.  All  right.  Will  that  do  ? (Pointer  nods.) 

Enter , r.,  Eliza,  hat  hanging  by  the  ribbons  behind , off  her  head. 

Eliza  {crossing).  Which  is  the  way, please,  to  Blackfriars  Bridge'?  (l.) 

Point.  Fifth  turning  on  the  right.  We’re  going  that  way.  Will  you 
have  our  protection  1 

Eliza.  Not  for  the  world  ! {runs  off  l.) 

Point.  I don’t  like  the  look  of  the  girl ! 

Chum.  Do  you  know  her  'l 

Point.  No,  sir.  She’s  not  an  unfortunate — you  can  see  that  by  her 
face.  She  is  after  no  good.  Come  on,  sir.  Step  out,  sir. 

[Exit  with  Chumley,  l. 

Scene  changes  to 

SCENE  VI. — Arch  of  Bridge  with  view  of  the  River  Thames  and  St.  Raul's 
by  moonlight.  Gas  down  in  ls£,  2d  and  3d  entrances.  Limelight  to 
work  from  l.  u.  e.  to  platform  l.  3 e for  Eliza’s  entrance  there . 

Discover , Men,  Girls  and  Children  asleep  in  different  spots  on  Stage, 
Crumpets  c.,  reckoning  a handful  of  money. 

Crumpets.  I can’t  make  it  out.  Let’s  see— woman  and  two  children, 


20 


AFTER  I>ARK. 


that’s— one  and  two  is  three— no.  ( scratches  his  head)  Children  is  half 
price  ! That’s  all  right- 

Enter , l.  2 e.,  Area  Jack:  and  the  BARGEE,  coming  down  steps . 

Jack.  Have  you  got  comfortable  lodgings  for  two  gentlemen  to-night  1 

Crump.  Yes,  mate. 

Jack.  How  much  is  it  I 

Crump.  A brown  a nob  ! only  think,  ven  it’s  a tizzy  and  tuppence 

h’oulside  ! 

Jack.  And  a bath  gratis  in  the  morning. 

Crump.  No,  you  don’t  have  any  bath  gratis  in  the  morning 1 the 
Police  have  warned  me  that  the  first  time  they  catch  any  of  my  lodgers 
in  the  water  they’ll  have  me  h’up  for  polluting  the  Thames! 

Enter , l.  2 e.,  Jem  and  Josey. 

Jem.  Hab  yer  got  accommerdation  for  two  gen’lemens  as  is  down 
on  their  luck  to-night  'l  ( comes  down  steps  with  Josey.) 

Jack.  Hello ! here's  the  h’ambassadors  from  the  Theatre  R’yal, 
h’Abyssinia. 

Crump.  Hain’t  been  lucky  to-day  1 

Jem.  Not  worth  a punch  in  the  head  ! Who’ll  paytronize  the  intellec- 
tual amusement  when  they  can  go  into  the  music  hall  and  get  rough-and- 
tumble  with  a song  over  their  swipes  and  pipes  1 

Jack.  Why  for  thruppence  me  an’  the  Bargee  went  h’into  the  Elysium, 
and  we  had  three  ballets  a selection  from  II  Trovytory,  and  we  heard 
the  great  Muggings  sing  a- Walking  in  the  Zoo  ! 

Jem.  Ah,  yah,  yah  ! A- Walking  in  the  Zoo  ! {sings,  the  others  gradually 
joining  m the  chorus  of  “ Walking  in  the  Zoo,”  and  give  a few  steps,  finish 
of  a break-down  to  it)  I say,  that’s  what  we  shall  come  to,  some  of  these 
days.  I say,  Crumpets,  will  you  give  u credit  for  the  night  I 

Crump.  No  ! Sleep's  a cash  article  here.  We  don’t  do  that  business 
on  tick  here ! 

Jem  ( shoulders  his  banjo).  Well,  then,  we  must  try  the  work’ us ! 

Jack.  Oh,  Isay,  don't  do  that ! Here,  here’s  tuppence  I got  for  rim- 
ing for  carriages  at  the  Adelphi. 

Jem.  You’re  a trump!  I’ll  give  you  a season  ticket  for  our  entertain- 
ment' Pass  him  always,  Josey.  (l.  with  Josey  front  ) 

Crum.  ( receiving  coin  from  Jack).  All  right.  Hullo  ! here’s  a ha’penny 
too  much  ! it’s  only  a penny. 

Jack.  A penny  a head,  and  a ha’penny  for  the  chambermaid. 

Crum.  Here's  your  beds  ! ( gives  Jem  and  Josey  beds  from  a pile  at  C.) 

Enter , l.  2 e.,  Pointer  and  Chumley,  Pointer’s  lantern  lit  and  in  his  belt. 

Point.  This  is  the  place,  sir.  I don’t  see  that  girl,  though  it’s  sure 
she  passed  us.  She  must  have  given  us  the  slip. 

Chum.  Perhaps  gone  over  the  bridge. 

Point.  Not  likely,  sir.  ( they  come  down  step  to  c ) I’ll  try  and  find  the 
person  you  seek. 

Jack.  I say,  pals  ! here’s  a lark  ! here’s  a broken-down  swell  come  to 
beg  a night’s  doss  of  old  Crumpets. 

Point.  No  he  don’t,  lie’s  a gentleman,  only  come  down  to  have  a look 
around. 

Jack.  Well,  then,  the  gentleman  ought  to  stand  something  for  his 
footing/ 


! 


ACT  X. 


21 


All.  That's  the  ticket  i 

Point,  (to  Ciiumley).  You’d  better  give  them  a little  something,  sir. 

Chum.  Do  people  live  here  I 

Jack.  Rayther  ! should  think  they  does!  Vy,  this  is  Bankside  Hotel, 
unlimited  ; airy  rooms  and  the  water  always  laid  on. 

Point.  Have  any  of  you  seen  O.d  Tom'? 

Crum.  He  went  along  the  foreshore  a moment  ago. 

Point.  All  right.  .[Exit,  r.  2 e. 

Crum.  You’ll  find  him  in  the  boat. 

Jack.  More  like  at  the  bottom  of  it,  drunk.  (All  laugh.) 

Chum,  (to  Jack).  Here’s  half  a crown  for  you.  Here,  comes  Dalton. 
I wan’t  to  speak  with  Old  Tom — an  old  friend  of  mine.  If  you'll  keep 
it  quiet  here  while  we  have  our  talk,  there'll  be  another  half  crown  for 
you. 

Jack.  Werry  good,  sir.  (tries  com  between  his  teeth.  Whispers  to 
Others,  and  all  go  off  l.;  except  Woman  and  Children,  who  remain  asleep.') 

Pointer  enters  r.  2 e. 

Pointer.  Here  he  is,  sir ! [Exit  up  stairs  and  off  l.  2 e. 

Enter  Old  Tom,  r.  2 e. 


Chum.  Dalton ! 

Tom  (savagely).  Ah ! is  it  for  this  I have  been  brought  here  I to  be 
insulted  by  your  commiseration.  Well,  you  see  how  low  I have  sunk. 
You  have  seen  what  I do  by  day  ; at  night  I sell  bills  at  the  doors  of  the 
theatres,  and  eke  out  my  living  after  midnight  by  helping  a man  who 
trawls  for  the  dead — and  often  I envy  those  dead — when  I am  sober 
enough  to  think  of  such  things  ! 

Chum.  Have  you  no  friends  1 

Tom.  I don’t  want  any  ! 

Chum.  You  know  what  true  comrades  we  were  to  one  another.  We  shar- 
ed the  same  meals,  the  same  tent,  and  when  I lay  for  dead  under  the  can- 
non on  the  field,  it  was  you  who  flew  to  lift  me  up  and  carry  me  back  to 
our  lines,  wheTe  we  arrived,  you  dripping  with  blood  from  a shot  in 
your  shoulder.  Dalton,  do  you  think  I forget  I 

Tom.  No  ! but  I must ! Oh,  Gordon,  don’t  harrow  me  with  memories 
of  the  past ; don’t  rouse  up  the  devil  within  me,  that  I try  to  drown  with 
drink. 

Chum.  Would  you  leave  me  if  you  found  me  in  the  mire  without  a 
helping  hand  I You  had  a wife — what  has  become  of  her  I 

Tom.  What!  you  have  not  heard  what  became  of  the  lovely  Fanny 
Dalton  I ha,  ha! 

Chum.  I see.  She  died  ! 

Tom.  You  remember  how  she  clung  round  my  neck  when  we  were  or- 
dered off  to  the  Crimea  ; and  how  I used  to  weep  at  her  letters,  and  the 
postscript  that  she  guided  our  little  child’s  hand  to  write  to  me  I Y ou 
called  me  a fool,  and  laughed  at  me.  You  were  right.  For  even  then 
she  was  the  prey  of  a designing  villain.  When  I returned  home,  I found 
that  she  had  fled  with  him.  He  was  a convicted  felon,  and  when  justice 
seized  upon  him,  she  was  left  in  the  work-house. 

Chum.  And  your  child  I 

Tom.  No  one  knows  what  became  of  it — no  one  but  that  villain,  whom 
the  cares  of  the  Government  keeps  from  my  vengeance.  Oh .’  my  bitter- 
;st  curses  light  on  every  letter  in  the  name  of  Richard  Knatchbull ! (r.) 

Chum.  Knatchbull ! why  that  is  the  name  of  a convict  that  I met  in 


AFTER  DARK:. 


22 

Van  Pieman’s  Land,  (aside)  Ah,  that  face  T saw  at  the  railway  station 
to-day.  Impossible  • oh,  if  he  may  have  come  back  7 

Tom  (agitated).  Well,  you  have  had  your  say,  and  I thank  you.  I will 
go  back  to  my  work — though — (looks  at  his  shaking  hands)  I am  iHifit  for 
any  work  to-night. 

Chum.  Good-by,  Frank 

Tom.  Good-by.  [ Exit  r.,  hanging  his  head  in  thought. 

Chum.  I was  afraid  to  offer  him  money.  He  might  have  been  offended. 
It  was  better  not. 

Enter , l.,  Jack,  Crumpets,  and  the  Others,  as  before , coming  down. 
Enter , l.  2 e.,  Pointer. 

Chum,  (to  Jack).  Here’s  the  half-crown  I promised  you.  (to  Pointer) 
Have  you  found  her  I 

Pointer  No  ; she  must  have  crossed  the  bridge.  (Chumley  to  foot  of 
steps)  Mr.  Crumpets,  mind  you  look  after  your  lodgers.  If  any  of  the 
workmen’s  tools  are  missing,  we  shall  have  to  break  up  your  nest ! 

Crumpets  (lighting  a pipe).  All  right,  Sergeant ! There’s  nobody  fre- 
quents my  establishment  but  members  of  the  h upper  ten! 

All.  Good-by,  Sergeant ! Good-night,  Sergeant ! (laughs.  Music, piano, 
long  sostenato  chords  on  violin,  during  the  following  till  direction.) 

Jack.  What  a h’orful  draft  comes  in  here  ! Crumpets,  you  r’ally 
oughter  hang  up  curtings  in  the  arch  ! you’ll  spile  my  woice  next  ! (lies 
down  on  steps , sings  drowsily  air  of  11  All  round  my  Hat”)  All  round  the 
squares,  I lugs  a pair  of  babbies  ; all  round  the  squares,  of  a quiet  arter- 
noon  ; when  I sees  the  people  passing  by  I pinches  them  fe-ro-ciously  ! 
which  makes  them  blessed  babbies  cry,  and  (sleepily)  sympathy  is  riz ! 
(asleep,  mumbles)  Sympathy  is  riz.  (All  asleep , pause.  3foonlight  to  l.  3 e. 
platfotm. 

Enter , l.  2 e.,  and  to  platform  l.  3 e.,  Eliza  suddenly. 

Eliza.  Oh,  merciful  heavens,  forgive  me  for  what  I am  doing  ! fare- 
well, George  ! farewell  wicked  world,  it  is  for  his  sake  ! his  sake,  (leaps 
down  and  exits  unseen  l.  3 e.  Boat  ready  to  work  on  r.  3 e.) 

Jem  (rises).  What’s  that  I 

Crump,  (rises).  Where  7 what  7 (all  wake  up,  lively  music.) 

Jack.  Something  in  the  water,  (all  up  c.,  grouped  picturesquely)  It’s 
a woman  ! 

Enter , r.,  in  boat , Tom. 

Crump.  Hunt  up  a rope  somewhere! 

Tom.  It’s  all  right,  I am  here  ! (all  cheer.) 

QUICK  CURTAIN. 

If  Curtain  is  called  up,  discover  Eliza  fainted  in  Tom’s  arms,  in  boat  at  c. 


ACT  II. 

SCENE  I. — Arched  Vault  under  a Street,  in  3d  grooves.  Gas  up. 

Discover  Eliza  sleeping  on  bed  in  r.  vault.  Tom  seated  at  r.  c.,  by  barrel , 

drinking. 

Tom.  I wonder  who  she  is  7 She  is  not  a servant-girl,  her  hands  do 


Acr  Hi  {£3 

^ 

no!  Show  sigtig  6f  Wdrk,  Shd  is  not  a Seamstress*  Her'  firlger#  shew  no 
marks  of  the  needle.  I wonder  What  made  her  do  it  1 

Eliza  (in  her  sleep);  George  ! Farewell,  George  l 

Tom.  Ah  < That’s  it  i George  is  at  the  bottom  of  it,  whoever  he  is. 
Ever  since  nine  days  ago  when  I picked  her  out  of  the  Thames,  nothing 
save  that  name  “ George  ” has  passed  her  lips* 

1 Me?)  n.,  Chumey, 

ChuM,  Dalton,  I received  your  message,  and  T have  come; 

Tom  (rises).  You  are  come  to  my  mansion. 

Chum  Do  you  live  here  ? 

Tom  Now  that  they  let  me.  At  first  I was  worried  out  of  it  by  the 
overseer  of  the  parish,  but  whenever  I came  out  of  prison,  I came  back 
to  here.  I told  him  he  would  get  tired  of  it  before  I did.  So  here  I am. 

Chum.  Well,  you  want  me  to  assist  you  ? 

Tom.  No,  not  me ! It’s  that  poor  girl  there.  Nine  days  ago  I fished 
her  out  of  the  Thames,  and  she  has  lain  there  ever  since.  It  was  not 
love  that  drove  her  to  it,  for  there  is  her  wedding-ring  on  her  finger  j i( 
was  not  want,  for  she  had  one  pound  seven  odd  in  her  pockets. 

Chum.  What  can  I do  with  her  'l 

Tom.  I don’t  know.  I thought  that  you  might  know  of  some  situation 
for  her. 

Chum.  Without  a character  'l  I have  no  knowledge  of  her  but  such 
as  you  give. 

Tom.  I’m  a nice  looking  article  to  recommend  anybody  ! 

Chum.  Stay  ! now  I think  of  it,  I do  know  a lady  who  is  in  want  of  a 
person  ; she  is  about  to  be  married. 

Tom.  Not  to  you,  I hope  7 

Chum.  No! 

Tom.  That’s  right. 

Chum.  I wish  she  was,  for  I love  her ! 

Tom.  And  you  think  she  will  take  herl 

Chum.  Yes,  I shall  see  her  to-day,  and  if  your  charge  will  come  to 
her — here’s  her  address — ( puts  card  on  barrel-head)  I am  pretty  sure  she 
will  not  have  to  return.  And  now.  Dalton,  can  I do  nothing  for  you  I 

Tom.  No  1 I have  nothing  to  live  for. 

Chum.  Not  even  your  daughter  ? 

Tom.  I have  buried  my  last  hope  of  ever  finding  her. 

Chum.  Then  I will  dig  it  up — and  revive  it ! (Tom  shows  interest  in 
what  follows)  I have  not  been  idle  since  I last  saw  you.  1 remembered 
that  I had  seen  a convict  of  the  name  of  your  wronger  in  Australia.  I 
inquired  about  him,  and  found  that  he  escaped.  I traced  him  from  place 
to  place,  till  I found  that  he  was  in  New  Orleans,  where  he  joined  the 
Confederate  Army  in  63.  The  record  says  that  he  fell  among  the  killed 
at  the  battle  of  Harper’s  Ferry. 

Tom  (bitterly).  Ah  ! he  died  like  a brave  soldier — while  I — shall  perish 
like  a dog 

Chum.  No.  he  was  not  killed.  Among  the  Southern  officers  who 
sought  refuge  in  London,  I know  one  General  Freemantle.  I went  to 
him.  He  remembered  Knatchbull,  who  had  been  in  his  corps,  attached 
to  him.  In  the  action,  the  two  had  been  thrown  down  by  the  explosion 
of  the  same  shell,  but  both  rose  unhurt,  save  that  Knatchbull  lost  a por- 
tion of  his  left  ear  ! 

Tom.  Fate  set  the  felon’s  mark  on  him  after  all. 

Chum.  If  I am  not  much  mistaken  he  is  at  this  moment  in  London.  If 


24 


AFTER  DARK. 


so,  do  not  fear,  T am  ltl  the  same  cage  as  the  reptile,  and  he  cannot  es- 
cape. Leave  him  to  me,  and  I’ll  give  you  a good  account  of  him. 

( Exit , L. 

Tom.  Knatchbull  alive  ! Knatchbull  here  ! here  ? I may  have  passed 
him  in  the  street,  {seated  up  r.  c.,  as  before ) looked  him  in  the  face  1 Oh, 
if  I had  his  throat  within  the  grip  of  these  fingers  as  now  ( takes  up  pewter 
pot)  I grasp  this  pewter  measure,  I would — {squeezes  pot  out  of  shape)  No. 
I didn  t mean  to  spoil  you,  old  fellow,  {sets  down  the  pot)  Pah  ! a gorilla 
could  Irave  done  as  much.  Can  you  take  the  demon  in  that  bottle  and 
strangle  him  ! Yes,  I can.  I’ll — I’ll  give  up  drink.  (Eliza  gradually 
wakes , pushes  hair  from  her  eyes , presses  her  forehead,  etc.)  I — I mean  I will 
try.  I ll — I’ll  do  it ! I will,  by  degrees.  ( about  to  drink.) 

Eliza  {rises).  Oh,  sir!  don't,  {seizes  bottle.) 

Tom  {rises).  Leave  go  ' ( struggle ) I must  have  it. 

Eliza,  Don’t,  you  hurt  me  (Tom  lets  go  bottle , she  flings  it  off's, .) 

Tom  {falls  into  seat , shaking  tearfully).  I am  a brute. 

Eliza.  No ! 

Tom.  I am  a brute. 

Eliza.  No,  you  are  not.  You  have  a good  heart  under  these  rags.  I 
esteem  you  now,  but  I should  love  you  if — if — 

Tom.  If  I did  not  drink  ! 

Eliza.  I cannot  feel  for  you  all  the  interest  that  you  deserve ; but  I 
hope  to  see  you  worthy  of  more  than  my  gratitude  some  day,  soon. 
After  Dark  the  light  will  come 

Tom.  I was  speaking  to  a friend  about  you,  my  girl;  and  he  has 
given  me  this  address  as  one  useful  to  you. 

Eliza  ( takes  card).  ‘ Miss  Egerton,  the  Lilacs.” 

Tom.  That  lady  will  take  you  into  her  service,  I hope  There  you  will 
find  a home.  This  place  is  not  for  such  as  you — I did  not  pick  you  up 
out  of  the  Thames  to  make  you  the  drudge  of  a drunken  beggar.  Pack  up 
your  things,  my  girl  ; it  is  a good  way  off,  and  you  must  be  there  this 
afternoon,  {after  Eliza  gets  shawl , etc.,  to  make  a bundle , Tom  closes  the 
sailcloth  over  arch  for  the  change  cf  scene.  Eliza  to  r.  fronts  kneeling,  packs 
bundle)  You  will  write  to  me  sometimes  7 

Eliza  Oh,  often! 

Tom.  What  name  will  you  go  by  1 

Eliza.  It  little  matters  now  that  he  has  deprived  me  of  the  one  he 
gave  me.  You  can  call  me  Fanny  Dalton. 

Tom  {starts , excitedly).  Fanny  Dalton'  What!  is  that  your  name  ! 

Eliza.  It  seems  familiar  to  me — it  must  have  been  that  of  one  that  I 
held  dear  in  my  childhood. 

Tom  {with  emotion).  Your  mother — does  she  live  ! 

Eliza.  No;  she  died  in  the  St.  Pancras  Work-house,  ten  years  ago. 

Tom.  And  your  father — your  father  1 

Eliza.  I never  knew  him.  1 only  know  the  man  who  stole  my  mother 
from  him  only  to  let  her  die  in  misery. 

Tom  How  was  he  called  ? 

Eliza.  Richard  Knatchbull. 

Tom  {aside).  Richard  Knatchbull ! It  is  my  own  child  ! 

Eliza.  Why  do  you  look  (rises)  at  me  like  that  I 

Tom  {aside).  My  child ! and  I feel  ashamed  to  own  who  I am.  I am 
afraid  to  ask  her  to  come  to  the  arms  of  this  drunkard,  clothed  in  rags ! 
Ashamed,  ashamed  ! 

Eliza  What  is  the  matter! 

Tom.  Oh,  don’t  be  frightened,  I shall  not  hurt  you  again  l Go  on 
your  way  ; I will  follow  you — but  at  a distance ; you  shall  not  be  dis- 
graced. by  the  company  of  me. 


ACT  II. 


25 


Eliza.  Oh,  never ! 

Tom.  Some  day,  when  I shall  have  other  clothes,  if  I come  to  you, 
you  will  see  me  sometimes  ? You  have  pity  for  me  now,  but  in  time  you 
will  learn  something  better — you  will  learn  to  love  me — as  if  I were  in- 
deed your  father  ? 

Eliza.  You  deserve  that  name  ! 

Tom.  Not  yet,  not  yet ! but  by  the  help  of  Heaven  I will  work  to  gain 
it.  ( sudienly  kisses  Eliza’s  hand)  Don’t  be  alarmed.  Go  on — I will  fol- 
low you ! go  on,  go  on ! (exit  Eliza  r.)  Oh ! (sob)  She  was  right.  After 
dark  the  light  has  come.  [Exit,  r. 

Scene  changes  to 

SCENE  II. — Villa  and  garden  in  6th  grooves.  Bell  rings  off  r. 

Enter , r.  u.  e.;  Bellingham  and  Morris, 

Bel.  This  is  the  place. 

Mor.  And  a fine  place  it  ish 

Servant  enters  from  d.  in  house , set  front. 

Bel.  Is  Sir  George  Medhurst  at  home?  (Servant Take  in  my 
card.  [Exit  Servant  with  card,  d.  in  house. 

Mor.  I say,  don’t  he  live  in  clover  here  ? Such  a beautiful  garden  ! 
Why  Cremorne  is  not  a figure  to  it. 

Bel.  Ah,  I was  born  to  this  sort  of  thing.  I feel  at  home  here.  I ex- 
pand with  each  breath  of  the  air. 

Mor.  Well,  I don’t!  It’s  too  much  for  me — I’m  taken  with  a pain  in 
the  stomach,  like  I had  been  out  riding. 

Bel.  Give  me  such  a place  and  the  money  to  keep  it  up ! 

Mor.  Ah,  I should  like  some  one  else  to  keep  it  up  for  me  ! 

Enter,  d.  in  house,  Medhurst.* 

Med.  So  you  have  penetrated  to  this  place  of  peace  ? You  have  come 
to  me.  What  do  you  want  ? 

Bel.  We  come  now  because  we  did  not  like  to  wait  longer.  It  is  best 
to  see  you  on  the  eve  of  your  marriage. 

Med.  1 know  what  you  would  say,  but -go  on. 

Bel.  Here  is  (produces  paper)  an  order  for  your  banker  to  sell  out  the 
stock  he  has  in  his  hands  to  the  amount  of  your  indebtedness  to  us. 

Med.  (takes paper).  I cannot  give  you  the  answer  now 

Bel.  Ob,  any  time  before  the  ceremony.  We  are  in  no  hurry.  Be- 
sides, we  can  take  advantage  of  the  interval  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
your  charming  bride. 

Med.  Never  ! There  is  some  excuse  for  your  accosting  me  in  my  own 
house  ; but  there  is  none  to  pollute  by  your  presence  the  lady  who  is  to 
be  my  bride. 

Bel.  What  ! madness  makes  you  speak  like  this  ! 

Med.  No!  it  is  remorse  that  makes  me  speak. 

Bel.  Remorse  ! that’s  the  word  of  a fool.  What  has  remorse  to  do 
with  a man  who  has  had  all  obstacles  swept  from  his  path  ? 


*Med. 


lBel, 

0. 


Morris, 


-V  i 


AFTER  DARK. 


26 

Mon.  Remorse  ! (aside)  When  he  was  poor,  he  was  ready  for  anything, 
but  now  he  is  rich,  he  is  getting  pertickler ! 

Bel.  Well,  as  you  please.  There  is  the  paper — sign  it  and  be  free  of 
us. 

Med.  Yes,  I shall  be  free  from  you,  but  how  can  I be  free  from  her  ? 
She  is  dead — she  died  as  much  murdered  by  us  as  though  our  own 
hands  had  thrust  her  into  the  grave.  In  the  night  I see  her  again,  and  I 
hear  from  her  icy  lips,  in  a cold  breath  like  that  of  the  dead  : “ For  your 
sake,  George,  for  your  sake  !”  ( cross  to  r.  excitedly , and  return , up  c.)  Poor 
Eliza ! 

Bel.  (sneering).  “Poor  Eliza!”  Pah!  are  you  going  to  hang  her 
round  your  neck  like  a chaplet,  forever  I Pshaw,  man,  it’s  the  change  in 
your  living  ! (Medhurst  falls  seated  on  garden  chair , his  face  in  his  hand.) 
It’s  your  digestion  out  of  order! 

Mor.  Yesh,  yesh,  it’sh  not  the  mind,  it’sh  the  stomach  ! 

Bel.  You  are  behind  the  age ; science  has  done  away  with  all  that 
ancient  delicateness.  You  must  not  think  of  remorse ; it  is  simply 
nausea. 

Med.  (rises).  I am  in  no  mood  to  speak  with  you.  Leave  me  now. 

I will  meet  you  in  the  shrubbery. 

Mor.  (to  Bellingham).  What  ish  the  matter  with  him  I 

Bel.  (to  Morris).  He  is  a whining  cur,  and  we’ll  be  lucky  to  have 
done  with  him.  (to  Medhurst)  We  will  expect  your  coming. 

[Exit  with  Morris,  l.  4 e. 

Med.  I have  made  my  own  taskmasters,  and  heavy  as  is  the  debt, 
alas,  it  must  be  paid. 

‘ Enter , d.  in  house , Rose  Egerton.  1 

Rose  (crossing  to  Medhurst,  l.).  Dear  George,  you  look  sad;  you  are 
not  displeased  with  mel  I wish  I could  be  more  kind. 

Med.  You  unkind,  Rose  I 

Rose.  You  seem  to  see  the  approach  of  our  marriage  with  regret. 
Might  it  not  be  arranged  that  I should  not  be  your  wife  1 

Med.  No,  no  ! I do  not  shrink  from  it.  On  the  contrary,  I wish  you 
to  be  my  wife.  Love  me,  Rose,  love  me  even  more,  and  (aside)  perhaps 
she  whom  I have  wronged  will  forgive  me  for  your  sake. 

Enter,  r.  u.  e.,  Chumley. 

Med.  I must — I will  try  to  throw  off  my  gloominess,  (embraces  Rose.) 

Chum,  (aside).  There  they  are.  I asked  Rose  to  be  more  kind  to  him, 
but  she  is  carrying  out  my  instructions  with  more  fidelity  than  I could 
wish,  (coms's  down)  T am  not  intruding  I 

Med.  (rises).  Certainly  not. 

Chum.  I have  obeyed  you,  and  brought  that  bracelet,  (gives  Rose 
jewel-case ) You  will  see  what  a good  likeness  it  is  of  George  it  contains. 

Rose  (opens  case).  Oh,  how  beautiful  ! (to  Medhurst)  Oh,  have  I 
again  to  thank  you  for  something  I (to  Chumley*)  Now,  you  never  give 
me  anything. 

Chum,  (sadly,  aside).  Have  not  1 1 (aloud)  Well,  I will  give  you  some- 
thing. You  were  in  need  of  a servant.  Has  anybody  in  the  neighbor- 
hood made  an  application  I 

Rose.  No. 


* Rose. 

r.  o. 


Chumley. 

o. 


Medhurst. 

L.  O. 


ACT  II. 


27 


Chum.  Then  there  will  be  one  come  to-day  whom  I will  leave  to  your 
kind  heart. 

Rose.  What  is  she  7 

Chum.  I know  nothing  of  her,  except  her  misfortunes,  which  must 
have  been  great. 

Rose  ( crossing  to  l.).  Oh,  George,  can  we  take  such  a person  into  our 
house  7 

Med.  What,  Rose  7 A poor  creature  has  lost  her  way  in  the  storm, 
and  comes  to  our  door,  and  shall  we  refuse  to  let  her  in  because  the 
night  is  too  dark,  and  she  is  too  poor  to  enter  our  splendid  house  7 No. 
Take  her  in ; and  we  shall  not  repent  it. 

Chum.  Then  she  may  depend  upon  having  the  situation  7 

Rose  (to  r.).  Yes,  and  I shall  be  glad  of  her  services.  My  rooms  are 
so  overcrowded  with  wedding  finery  that  it  has  overflowed  into  the  par- 
lor, and  thence  to  the  library  (at  r.  d.  in  house , laughingly ),  from  which 
places  you  are  duly  warned,  under  penalty  of  crushing  a crinoline  or 
sitting  down  on  a bonnet.  [Exit,  R.  d.  in  house. 

Chum.  I wanted  to  speak  with  you,  George.  There  were  two  men 
passed  me  at  the  railway  station.  They  came  this  way.  Have  they 
called  7 (Medhurst  nods)  I hope  you  have  shaken  them  off. 

Med.  I cannot.  I am  in  their  power. 

Chum.  I feared  as  much.  May  T be  so  bold  as  to  inquire  7 

Med.  You  may  know  all.  Tempted  by  Dicey  Morris,  in  his  gambling- 
house,  in  a fit  of  drunken  desperation,  I forged  my  father’s  name. 

Chum.  And  these  rascals  hold  the  forgery  7 

Med.  Yes.  Here  is  a paper  which  I have  but  to  sign  to  have  that 
evidence  of  my  guilt  restored  to  me. 

Chum,  (takes  paper).  You  shall  do  no  such  thing. 

Med.  Eh7? 

Chum.  Leave  me  to  deal  with  these  rascals.  You  shall  not  be  ruined 
^ by  them. 

Med.  What  have  I done  to  deserve  your  interest  7 

Chum.  You  7 nothing.  But  I wish  her  life  to  be  shared  with  a man 
whom  no  one  will  be  able  to  reproach.  I wish  her  unclouded  happiness 
— for  I love  her  ! 

Med.  You ! 

Chum.  Yes,  George,  I love  her,  and  with  a love  so  pure  that  no  better 
proof  of  its  spotlessness  can  be  given  than  my  fearlessness  to  tell  it  to 
you.  We  are  rivals  ! 

Med.  Rivals  ! and  yet  you  would  save  me  from  the  consequences  of 
my  own  crime  1 

Ciium.  Yes.  She  says  that  “ I gave  her  nothing.”  But  I shall  give 
her  your  name,  cleared  forever  from  disgrace. 

Med.  Oh  ! it  shall  never  be  disgraced  again  ! 

Chum.  For  her  sake,  George,  I expect  you  to  keep  your  word,  (they 
shake  hands)  Good-by,  George.  [Exit  George,  k.  d.  in  house. 

Enter , r.  u.  e.,  Eliza. 

Chum,  (aside).  Now,  how  am  I to  deal  with  these  villains  7 

Eliza.  I beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I found  the  garden-gate  open,  and 
1 came  in.  Can  I see  Miss  Egerton  7 

Chum,  (aside).  This  is  she.  It  is  an  honest,  suffering  face,  (aloud)  The 
lady  will  see  you  at  once.  I beg  you  to  be  seated. 

Eliza.  I beg  pardon,  sir,  I am  not  the  person  that  you  take  me  for. 

Chum.  Nay,  I never  make  mistakes  on  such  things,  I hope.  I always 


28 


AFTER  DARK. 


recognize  the  gentlewoman,  however  misfortune  may  disguise  her.  {to  r. 
d.  in  house , speaks  to  Servant  within , who  goes  off  r.) 

Enter  Rose,  r.  d.  in  house. 

Chum.  This  is  the  person  of  whom  I spoke,  {to  Eliza)  This  is  the  lady. 

[ Exit,  r.  d.  in  house. 

Rose.*  Poor  girl ! ( takes  seat  r.  c.)  you  look  very  wearied  and  dusty. 

Eliza  {faintly).  I have  walked  all  the  way  from  Waterloo  Bridge. 
I have  been  ill,  and  I am  not  yet  strong. 

Rose.  You  wish  to  enter  my  service  ; what  can  you  do  1 

Eliza.  I can  be  faithful,  obedient  and  grateful. 

Rose  {smiles).  You  have  evidently  not  been  accustomed  to  service. 

Eliza.  No,  madam.  I — I never  was — ah  ! I am  faint,  {hand  to  fore- 
head.) 

Rose  {rises).  Oh!  {supports  Eliza)  how  thoughtless  I am.  {places 
Eliza  in  seat)  Don’t  cry  ! There  is  something  in  your  manner  that  as- 
sures me  that  you  will  be  invaluable  to  me — oh  ! do  not  give  way  to  tears 
thus. 

Eliza.  How  can  I thank  you  7 Such  kindness  from  the  hands  of 
strangers  makes  the  coldness  of  those  who  were  dear  to  me  in  times  past, 
seem  all  the  more  painful  by  constrast. 

Rose.  Dry  your  tears.  Come  with  me — you  must  not  be  seen  in  this 
dress. 

Eliza.  I have  no  other,  {rises.) 

Rose.  Oh,  I beg  your  pardon.  Never  mind;  we’ll  find  some  of  my 
dresses  to  replace  those  poor  garments  of  yours,  {music.) 

[Exit  Eliza,  leaning  on  Rose,  r.  d.  in  house. 

Scene  closes  in. 

SCENE  III. — Garden-wall  in  1st  grooves. 

Enter , d.  in  f.,  Old  Tom. 

Tom.  I have  seen  her  in.  Bless  her  that  took  her  to  her.  I followed 
her  all  the  way  down  here.  And  now  to  work — to  work ! till  I can  feel 
like  her  father.  What  a nice  place  ! how  good  it  smells  ! IIow  I envy 
the  birds  that  flit  about  from  tree  to  tree,  and  even  the  vermin  that  lie  out 
under  the  shade,  {goes  l.)  Eh  7 I see  two  figures  coming  this  way.  Surely 
that  can’t  be  Morris!  Dicey  Morris  here'?  {hides  himself , between 
wing  and  scene ) f ^ 

Bellingham  and  Morris  enter  lA 

— ....  ..I. 

Bellingham.  He  seems  a long  time  about  that  paper' 

Mor.  I am  not  inquisitive,  Mr.  Bellingham,  Jmt  howjsjit 'to"  be  man- 
aged I __  

Bel.  I see  no  difficulty;  I present  the  check  and  get  the  money.^, 

Mor.  Look  here  ! It’s  not  that  I don’t  trust  you — wish  you  may  die 
if  I do ! but  <£5,000  is  an  awful  hatful  of  money  to  be  in  one  man’s 
pocket.  It  might  dazzle  hish  eyeshv  and  make  himjorget  he  had  a part- 
ner. 

Bel.  Pshaw  l , ^ ^ 

Mor.  I’ll  tell  you  how  to  do  it.  Just  tear  the  check  in  half — each 


* Rose.  Eliza. 

v Jl.  c.  c. 

V - 


ACT  II. 


29 


keep  a piece,  and  paste  it  together  when  we  want  it  cashed — you  under- 
stand 'i 

Bel.  Where  in  the  geological  formation  of  my  character  do  you  see 
any  evidence  of  the  vein  of  green  that  you  are  apparently  in  the  thought 
of  working  'l 

Mor  ( passionately ).  See  here,  Mr.  Bellingham,  yo*  are  putting  on 
airsh  ! and  I won’t  shtand  them — wish  I may  die  if  I do  ! I hold  the 
capital — that  ish  the  forgery,  don’t  I 7 Well  then  ! 

Bel.  Then  allow  me  to  open  your  eyes,  Mr.  Morris.  You  hold  the 
forgery  1 ( produces  paper ) I beg  your  pardon  j here  is  the  document. 
{keeps  it  up  out  of  Morris’s  reach.) 

Mor.  {amazed).  What  ish  that  1 Sen’  I may  live.  Look  here  ; why  I 
put  that  in  the  hands  of  my  banker  for  safety. 

Bel.  Exactly.  By  my  suggestion. 

Mor.  Ye — yesh  ! it  was  by  your  suggestion.  Chandos,  my  boy,  you 
have  not  been  robbing  the  bank,  have  you  7 

Bel.  No. 

Mor.  That’sh  a consolation. 

Bel.  I simply  presented  myself  at  the  banker’s,  said  I was  Sir  John 
Med  hurst,  and  wanted  to  pay  an  over  due  bill  of  mine.  I paid  the  money 
and  obtained  the  bill — quite  in  the  regular  way  of  business.  You  called 
me  the  junior  partner.  Why,  damme  ! I constitute  the  whole  firm. 

Mor.  To  be  sure  ! That’sh  quite  right,  quite  right.  Chandos,  my 
dear,  you  wouldn’t  go  back  on  an  old  friend,  would  you  'l 

Bel.  Go  to  the  station  ; I’ll  meet  you  there  to  leave  for  London. 

Mor.  All  right,  all  right ! I'm  to  wait  for  you  at  the  station  'l 

Bel.  Yes.  Go,  for  I see  him  coming.  [Morris  exits  d.  in  f. 

Enter , l.,  Chumlev. 

Chumley.  Good-day,  sir. 

Bel.  I expected  to  see  Sir  George  Medhurst. 

Chum.  I know  it.  But  you  see  me  instead. 

Bel.  It  was  a matter  private  and  important. 

Chum.  I know  that ; but  still  I believe  Sir  George  will  not  lose  bv  my 
intermediation. 

Bel.  {carelessly).  I should  say  not. 

Chum.  I act  just  as  if  it  were  himself.  Can  you  spare  me  five  min- 
utes 'l 

Bel.  Five  minutes  1 no  more ; for  I must  catch  the  train  that  leaves 
*br  town  in  ten  minutes,  (r.  c.) 

Ciium.  I will  bo  as  brief  as  I can.  Sir  George  has  told  me  by  what 
means  he  is  in  the  power  of  Mr.  Morris  and  yourself. 

Bel.  {half -aside).  The  more  fool  he  ! 

Ciium.  Perhaps  we  shall  alter  our  opinion  on  that  point  before  our  con- 
ve:  sation  is  finished.  / 

' Bel.  You  know  the  terms  7 , ^ 

Ciium.  YesjJbut  we  will  only  payjjouble  what  is  on  the  face  of  the 
note. 

Bel.  Mr.  Morris  would  never  listen  to  such  a proposition.' 

Chum.  Then  Mr.  Morris  mistakes  the  value  of  the  paper.  I rely  upon 
you  to  undeceive  him. 

Bel.  Upon  me  'l  your  confidence  does  me  honor  ! 

Chum.  You  flatter  me. 

Bel.  Not  at  all ; I listen  to  you. 

Chum.  I do  not  forget  your  perspicuity  as  shown  on  other  occasions. 

Bel.  “ On  other  oceasions  'l  ” I beg  your  pardon. 


30 


AFTER  DARK. 


Ciium.  Yes  ; seven  years  ago,  I was  stationed  at  Melbourne.  (Belling- 
ham is  at  first  uneasy , then  smiles , and  afterwards  listens  coolly ) I was  or- 
dered out  to  assist  the  constabulary  in  the  arrest  of  a notorious  bush- 
ranges,  one  Richard  Knatchbull ! 

Bel.  Richard  Knatchbull  ? Ah  ! and  you — a — caught  him  ? 

Chum.  Ye — es ! we  caught  him.  And  while  we  held  him  in  custody, 
curiosity  impelled  me  to  inspect  the  wild  beast ! 

Bel.  And  I suppose  you  think  him  like  me  1 

Chum.  Yes;  very  like  you ! The  first  time  that  I met  you  since,  at 

the  railway  station,  I recognized 

Bel.  His  features  on  my  face  : Ah,  poor  Dick  ! (Chumley  is  amazed) 
my  elder  brother,  sir.  He  has  been  my  ruin  ; his  reputation  has  blasted 
mine;  and  caused  me  to  live  under  a false  name.  So  you  caught  him  * 
You  hung  him  of  course  ! 

Chum.  No,  he  escaped. 

Bel.  Did  he,  indeed  ! Ah,  he  has  as  many  lives  as  a cgt. 

Chum.  I beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Bellingham.  I really  thought  you  were 
the  fellow,  and  meant  to  use  that  belief  as  a weapon  on  you. 

Bel.  I saw  you  did  ! But  never  mind  apologies.  It  is  my  misfor- 
tune, not  your  fault! 

Chum.  I am  very  sorry  that  you  are  not  the  other  scoundrel ! 

Bel.  Don’t  mention  it. 

Ciium.  But  to  business  ; Sir  George  will  give  £5,000  to  be  released. 
Bel.  My  partner  would  never  think  of  such  an  idea ! 

Chum.  Six  thousand  I 
Bel.  It  is  hopeless! 

Chum.  Eight  thousand  'l 
Bel.  It  is  useless  to  mention  it! 

Chum.  As  a last  sum,  ten  thousand  I 

Bel.  You  are  losing  time,  and  shall  I miss  the  train.  I have  ( watch 
out ) but  five  minutes  to  reach  the  station. 

Chum.  ( watch  out ) You  have  lost  it.  Your  watch  is  stopped. 

Bel.  (puts  watch  to  right  ear).  No. 

Chum.  Why  do  you  test  it  by  your  right  earl  because  Richard 
Knatchbull  lost  his  left  ear  at  Harper’s  Ferry. 

Bel.  Checkmate!  the  game  is  yours!  You  have  mistaken  your  pro- 
fession. 

Chum.  I am  a soldier. 

Bel.  Nature  has  richly  endowed  you  for  that  of  a detective  officer. 
Well,  I think  you  mentioned  ten  thousand  pounds  'I 
Chum.  Sir  George  would  never  think  of  such  an  idea# 

Bel.  Eight  thousand  1 

Chum.  It  is  useless  to  mention  it. 

Bel.  Six  thousand  1 

Chum.  Quite  hopeless,  I assure  you. 

Bel.  Then  what  are  your  terms  1 
Chum.  Double  that  on  the  face  of  the  note. 

Bel.  If  I accept  them,  you  will  make  no  use  of  the  secret  in  your 
hands  ? 

Chum.  Safety  for  safety ! When  and  where  shall  I have  the  pleasure 
to  see  you  ? 

Bel.  At  the  Elysium  Music  Hall,  in  the  Broadway,  Westminster,  to- 
night. 

Chum.  I will  come.  , [Exit,  i* 

Morris  enters  d.  in  f. 

Bel.  Ah  ! you  here  1 you  have  overheard  1 


: 


ACT  It. 


8 i 


Mor.  Every  blessed  word! 

Bel.  He  will  come  to  the  Elysium — he  will  bring  the  money  with  him. 
You  can  have  nobody  within  your  doors  but  those  you  can  depend  upon. 
Mor.  I know,  a private  benefit — no  one  without  a ticket.  All  right. 

[Exit,  d.  in  f. 

Bel.  And  till  then,  Mr.  Gordon  Chumley,  I’ll  not  lose  sight  of  you  ! 

[Exit,  d.  in  f. 


Enter  Tom,  r. 


Tom  (in  d.  in  f.).  And  I of  you,  Richard  Knatchbull ! [Exit}  d.  in  f. 

Scene  changes  to 


SCENE  IY. — Interior  in  £th  grooves. 

Discover  Rose  seated  at  dressing-table , up  c. 

Rose.  She  has  told  me  all.  And  what  a story ! What  are  my  sor- 
rows compared  to  hers ? Poor  soul!  so  unused  to  kindness  that  one 
gentle  word  melts  her  to  tears. 

Enter,  r.  d.,  Eliza. 


Rose  (rises).  Oh,  Eliza ! what  a change.  Who  could  make  a servant 
of  that?  Why,  you  look  as  much  of  a lady  as  1 do — a good  deal  more, 
I dare  say. 

Eliza  (l front).  I shall  try  to  be  more  humble. 

Rose.  I don’t  mean  that. 

Eliza.  I am  not  accustomed  to  this  life,  madam. 

Rose.  Any  one  can  see  that.  Do  you  write  a good  hand? 

Eliza.  I believe  so.  I used  to  copy  music  when  I was  employed  in  a 
French  printing  office. 

Rose.  Do  you  speak  French  ? 

Eliza.  Yes,  madam. 

Rose.  And  to  copy  music  you  must  understand  it  ? 

Eliza.  I have  not. practised  for  a long  while. 

Rose.  And,  pray,  have  you  any  other  accomplishments. 

Eliza.  I can  read  a little  Italian. 

Rose.  Dear  me  ! I can’t  have  one  for  servant  who  would  smile  at  my 
attempts  to  murder  Mendelsohn,  and  who  is,  I dessay,  more  familiar 
with  Moliere  and  Dante  than  I am  with  Marshall  & Snellgrove  !*  Oh, 
what  am  I to  do  with  her  ? where  am  I to  put  her  ? (walking  across  to  r. 
an  l up  c.,  wringing  her  hands  in  playful  distress .) 

Eliza.  Oh,  don’t  send  me  away. 

Rose  (goes  to  her,  up  c.).  Send  you  away  ! Oh,  you  great  goose.  No, 
you  shan’t  be  my  servant,  except  to  the  household  in  appearance  ; but 
when  we  are  together,  as  now,  you  shall  be  my  friend.  Yes,  we  shall  be 
friends,  shan’t  we  ? (makes  Eliza  take  chair  ; she  kneels  beside  her ) In  the 
first  place,  (pretending  to  cry ) I am  going  to  be  married.  Isn’t  it  dread- 
ful ? 

Eliza.  I wish  you  much  joy. 

Rose.  And  my  husband — I hope  you’ll  like  him.  I think  you  will,  for 
he  is  much  like  you — I mean  in  manner  ; he  is  so  grave  and  reserved. 


* “ Marshall  & Snellgrove,”  a fashionable  London  dry-goods  store. 


32 


AFTER  PARK. 


He’s  my  cousin,  and  we  have  been  betrothed  almost  since  childhood. 
Poor  George  ! 

Eliza  (starts).  Is  hie  name  George  1 

Rose.  Yes.  George.  Don’t  you  like  it?  Oh,  he’s  so  generous  to  me. 
Only  look  at  all  the  things  I have  ! see  here  ! (takes  up  necklace)  1 won- 
der how  you  would  look  in  it.  (puts  necklace  on  Eliza)  Oh,  Leautiful ! 
the  diamonds  look  like  petrified  tears!  What's  that!  off  again  7 You 
are  crying.  Oh  ! Look  at  this — nice  bracelet,  isn’t  it  ? (gives  bracelet  to 
Eliza  while  she  arranges  veil  upon  her)  There’s  his  likeness  in  that ; see 
if  you  can  find  the  secret  spring. 

Eliza.  No,  I cannot  find  it. 

Rose.  Do  you  see  that  ruby  heart  ? Press  on  that,  and  the  loving 
giver  will  appear.  (Eliza  stai'ts,  opening  bracelet)  Well  ? 

Eliza.  Oh  L Who  is  this  ? 

Rose.  My  husband,  Sir  George  Medhurst ! (Eltza  hangs  her  head. 

Enter , l.  d.,  Servant. 

Servant.  Captain  Chumley  wishes  to  speak  to  you,  ma’am,  before  he 
leaves  for  London. 

Rose.  Tell  him  that  I will  be  with  him  presently.  [Exit  Servant,  l.d. 
Stay  here,  dear.  I shall  not  be  gone  long.  [Exit.  l.  d. 

Eliza  (r.scs).  My  husband  here  ! I am  under  his  roof!  And  she,  for 
whom  I have  been  discarded — she  has  been  kind  to  me.  (tears  of  veil 
and  necklace  and  throws  thejn  up  r.  c.)  Oh,  I must  leave  this  place  at 
once.  I will  go  and  change  this  dress  for  my  old  clothes,  and — (up  l.  c.) 
Is  this  window  open  ? Yes.  I — ah  ! some  one  approaches.  Oh  ! (stag- 
gers to  chair  up  ii.  c.  by  table , as  before)  my  husband,  (falls,  seated , sobbing 
throughout  the  following)  Oh,  oh  ! 

Enter , l.  u.  e.,  and  by  window , l.  in  f.,  Medhurst  ; comes  down , keeping 
his  shadow  on  Eliza  till  she  rises. 

Med.  (with  feeling).  Oh,  Rose,  dear  Rose  ! 1 have  come  to  tell  you  what 
I can  keep  hidden  no  longer.  You  were  right  when  you  said  that  I saw 
the  approach  of  our  wedding-day  with  aversion.  I do  not  love  you — for 
another  has  possession  of  my  heart.  I ask  forgiveness  of  you — but,  oh  ! 

I can  never  ask  forgiveness  of  her.  She  is  gone — I have  murdered  her. 

Eliza  (faintly).  Spare  me,  oh,  spare  me ! 

Med.  And  not  till  that  time  did  1 know  how  she  loved  me.  How  did 
she  love  me  ? To  the  greatest,  for  she  died  for  me.  Oh,  can  you  for- 
give me  1 

Enter , l.  d.,  Rose. 

Rose.  George  ! 

Med.  Rose  ! you  here  ? Who  is  this,  then  ? (Eliza  rises , and  he  re- 
cedes to  let  light  fall  on  her)  Oh,  my  wife  ! 

Eliza.  Medhurst.  ^ose. 

r.  c.  c.  l.  c. 


curtain  (music.) 


ACT  III. 


33 


ACT  III. 

SCENE  I. — Interior , Music  Hall . 

Discover  Audience,  Marker  and  Party  playing  billiards , l.,  Morris, 
r.  c.,  Crumpets  at  r.  front  table,  with  pack  of  cards.  Jem  and  Josey, 
dancing  on  miniature  stage , negro  breakdown.  Dance  ends ; J em  and 
Josey  make  comic  exit. 

Audience.  Order ! encore  ! ’core,  ’core  ! order  ! 

Chairman.  Ladies  and  gentlemen : the  rules  and  regulations  of  this 
establishment  is  that  there  is  no  ang-cores.  ( sits  down,  takes  a Girl  on  his 
knee , and  she  drinks  out  of  his  glass  etc.) 

Audience  ( murmur ).  Oh,  oh  ! (Waiter  goes  round.) 

Waiter.  Give  your  orders,  gen’lemen. 

Marker.  Are  they  all  let  I No!  here  you  are!  who’s  in  for  dark 
blue? 

Enter , d.  in  f.,  Area  Jack. 

Jack.  Stop  a bit ! {to  l.  c.)  How  are  you  playing  I 

Mar.  Pool — it’s  two  shilling’ ; tuppence  a life. 

Jack.  Tuppence  a life  ! Vv,  I wouldn’t  give  tuppence  for  the  life  of 
anybody  in  the  room.  ( takes  hold  of  his  cravat  and  imitates  hanging  by  it) 
Well,  what’s  for  me  I Dark  blue?  I’ll  take  three  to  one  on  dark  blue. 
{sings)  “ Oh,  the  dark  girl  dressed  in  blue  ; the  girl  dressed  in  dark  blue 
■ — oo — oo  ! 

Mor.  Hold  your  row,  hold  your  row,  can’t  you  ? Do  you  think  you 
are  in  a public-house  ? {goes  up.) 

Crump.  Here,  who’ll  take  a hand  ? 

Jack  {cue  in  hand , crosses  to  r c.).  Want  one,  old  pal?  Take  me!  {sits 
at  Crumpets’  table  and  they  shuffle  cards.) 

Mor.  {comes  down  to  pack).  Here,  here!  this  sort  of  thing  won’t  do — 
it  won’t  do,  I tell  you — I can’t  allow  games  of  chance  ! 

Jack  {playing).  Game  of  chance  ! it  ain’t  no  game  of  chance  ! Why 
Crumpets’  play  reduces  it  to  certainty  ! 

Mar.  Now  then,  who’s  turn  ? 

First  Player.  Here  you  are,  dark  blue  ! 

Mar.  Oh!  he  ain’t  satisfied  unless  he’s  playing  pool  and  cribbage  at 
the  same  time. 

Jack  {rises,  goes  l.  to  billiard  table).  Dark  blue  wanted  ? Make  way 
for  indigo!  where  am  I?  poor  thing.  Hold  open  your  pockets  till  I take 
my  play,  {plays  his  ball)  Oh,  what  have  I done,  {comic  distress)  I’ve 
hopped  myself  over  the  pocket. 

Chairman  (rises).  Ladies  and  Gentleman, will  have  the  honor 

of  appearing  before  you  as  the  original 

Introduces  song  in  character.  All  join  in  chorus , pound  on  table  with  billiard 
cues , glass  and  fists. 

Mor.  (r.  c.).  What’s  Bellingham  about — what’s  he  about?  I can’t 
make  him  out.  I wonder  where  he  is. 

Enter , d.  in  f.,  Bellingham. 

Mor.  Ah,  Chandos,  my  boy  ! Here  you  are  at  last. 

Bel.  (r.  c.).  Are  you  sure  of  these  people? 


u 


AFTER  DARK. 


Mok.  Of  every  one  of  them.  They’re  all  picked  men  ; they’ve  all  been 
“ in  trouble.”  (Jack  goes  l.  to  billiard- table')  Look  here,  Bellingham,  lam 
not  inquisitive,  but  1 don't  understand  what’s  going  on. 

Bel.  There’s  no  need  for  you  to  understand. 

Mor.  You  have  asked  Mr.  Chumley  to  come  here.  He’ll  bring  the 
police  at  his  heelsh. 

Bel.  No,  he  will  not  let  the  police  into  the  secret;  that  would  be  be- 
traying Medhurst. 

Mor.  What  do  you  mean  to  do  ? 

Bel.  Chumley  will  bring  the  money  with  him.  He  shall  have  the 
paper,  and  yet  he  shall  not  go  away  with  it. 

Mor.  It’s  a puzzle. 

Bel.  Last  year  you  concealed  Jem  Morgan  on  these  premises  when 
the  police  were  hot  after  him. 

Mor.  Yes. 

Bel.  How  ? 

Mor.  There  was  a hole  in  the  wall  that  led  out  on  the  tunnel  of  the 
underground  railway — it  only  needed  a little  work  to  make  it  large 
enough  for  him  to  creep  out. 

Bel.  Is  that  hole  there  still  ? 

Mor.  Not  likely.  I bricked  it  all  up  again. 

Bel.  It  must  be  opened  once  more  ! 

Mar.  Dark  blue  goes  ! 

Jack  Let  me  in.  Oh,  I pass.  ( pretends  to  faint  in  Crumpets’  arms.) 
Mar.  You  can  make  a star. 

Jack  ( hopefully ).  A star!  Oh,  oh  ! my  own,  my  gee-yiding  star! 

Bel  (toe.).  What’s  the  game,  Jack?  Playing  for  coppers!  Pah! 
There  ! (throws  gold  coin  on  billiard-table)  there’s  a pool  for  you  ! 

All.  Thank’ee,  sir. 

Bel.  Waiter,  two  glasses;  my  friend  is  to  come  yet.  And  take  glasses 
round  behind  the  scenes.  Gentlemen,  while  I remain  here,  nobody  shall 
pay  for  anything  ! 

Crump,  (r.,  table).  Waiter,  a bottle  of  the  best  brandy  and  a box  of 
cigars  ! 

Waiter  gets  things , goes  off  l.  1 e.,  with  waiter  of  glasses,  and  returns  dur- 
ing following.  Man  go$s  to  d.  m f .,as  Doorkeeper.  The  Girls  and 
some  Men  go  out  d.  in  f.,  gradually,  after  business  of  their  taking  leave 
of  their  friends.  Crumpets  goes  up  c.  Bellingham  takes  wp  a glass 
from  r.  table,  and  pours  from  a vial  into  it;  then  turns  the  glass 
around  to  coat  the  inside  with  the  liquid. 

Mor.  What  are  you  doing  ? 

Bel.  This  is  a solution  of  morphine— you  see  these  ten  drops? 

Mor.  I can’t  say  as  I do. 

Bel.  I have  spread  it  over  the  inside  of  the  tumbler. 

Mor.  Have  you,  indeed  ? 

Bel  He  will  have  a glass  with  me  before  parting.  In  an  instant  the 
drug  will  set  to  work,  and  he  will  be  benumbed  and  fall  insensible  into 
our  power. 

Mor.  Then  what  will  we  do  with  him  ? 

Bel  Little,  yet  much.  There  will  appear  in  the  newspaper  to-mor- 
row an  account  of  the  fatal  accident  on  the  Metropolitan  Railway : a 
gentleman  who  had  wandered  from  the  street,  in  a state  of  intoxication, 
was  found  dead  on  the  line. 

Mor.  Don’t!  you  put  me  in  a cold  shiver. 


ACT  III. 


85 


Tom  opens  d.  in  f.  Doorkeeper  stops  him . 

ToM.  Who  won’t  let  me  in  ? ( drunkenly ) I will  come  in.  ( scuffle . Tom 
enters)  Now,  then,  who’s  going  to  stop  me  going  into  a public  house  1 
Who’ll  turn  me  out  1 (c.) 

Mor.  ( excited , to  Bellingham).  Look  at  that!  What  will  we  do  with 
this  fellow  1 what  will  we  do  with  him  1 what  will  we  do  I 

Bel.  Is  he  one  of  us  I 

Mor.  No,  not  exactly.  (Tom  is  caught  by  Jack  and  Crumpets,  who 
carry  him  to  seat  up  R.) 

Bel.  Give  him  some  liquor,  waiter.  (< goes  up,  looks  at  Tom,  who  mutters 
drunkenly  to  himself)  Oh,  he’s  more  than  half  drunk  already ; another 
glass  will  make  him  put  his  shutters  up.  ( comes  down)  He  won’t  be  in  the 
way. 

Chumley  opens  d.  m f.;  and  speaks  with  Doorkeeper. 

Mor.  Doorkeeper).  It  s quite  right — quite  right.  Let  the  gen- 
tleman come  in.  You  might  have  known  that.  (Chumley  comes  down 
r.  c.) 

Bel.  \to  Jack).  Go  round  and  tell  your  comrades  that  there  is  a de- 
tective in  the  room  who  is  in  want  of  one  of  them.  (Jack  and  Crumpets 
and  Morris  speak  with  others,  who  nod  and  display  signs  of  uneasiness.) 

Chum.  This  is  rather  a curious  place  for  an  appointment. 

Bel.  Yes  ; but  it  belongs  to  my  friend  Morris,  who  refuses  to  let  the 
document  out  of  his  possession.  By  the  way,  it’s  the  custom  for 
strangers  to  spend  something  for  the  good  of  the  house.  I can’t  recom- 
mend the  wine,  but  the  brandy  is  prime.  Waiter,  clean  glasses.  (Wait- 
er clears  the  r.  front  table,  but  replaces  a glass  and  the  one  which  Belling- 
ham poisoned.  Bellingham  and  Chumley  take  seat  r.  and  l.  at  front  of 
t'dble)  There  is  the  document.  ( produces  paper.) 

Chum.  May  I examine  it  I 

Bel.  Certainly. 

Mor.  {to  Doorkeeper).  Mind,  don’t  let  anybody  in  without  a ticket. 
(Bellingham  and  Chumley  drink.  Chumley  coughs  several  times  during 
following,  as  if  the  liquor  hurt  his  throat.) 

Bel.  You  see  it  is  all  regular. 

Chum.  It  looks  genuine  enough,  {cough)  Ah ! All  right.  There  is 
your  money,  {gives  notes,  which  Bellingham  counts.  Chumley  gets  sleepy, 
drinks  again,  hangs  his  head,  lifts  it  with  an  effort,  presses  lvis  forehead.) 

Bel.  {aside).  So  far,  so  well,  {puts  up  notes.  Chumley  puts  the  paper 
in  pocket-book,  and  then  in  coat  breast-pocket  slowly.  Bellingham  drinks) 
To  our  next  merry  meeting. 

Chum.  I hope  not. 

Bel.  As  you  please.  Let  Sir  George  Medhurst  know  at  once  ; don’t 
deprive  him  of  the  news  that  he  is  free. 

Chum,  {rises).  I think  I mus — I think  I must — I go  ! I — I feel  queer 
— give  me  a glass  of  water,  {supports  himself  by  chair.) 

Bel.  Waiter,  glass  of  ice-water  for  this  gentleman.  (Waiter  brings 
glass , Chumley  hardly  drinks.  Waiter  takes  away  glass  ; Chumley  faUs 
down  into  chair , his  hat  rolling  under  table)  Cover  me.  Dice}r.  {bends  over 
Chumley  to  take  his  pocket-book,  Morris  on  his  left,  before  him.) 

Mar.  Round  on  your  player.  Play  on  the  red  ball. 

Bel.  {flourishes  book).  All  right;  it  is  safe  in  my  possession. 

Tom  {starts  up,  snatches  book  from  Bellingham).  Safer  in  mine!  (Bel- 
lingham and  Morris  strike  attitude  of  astonishment.) 

Mor,  What  does  this  mean  ? 


m 


AFTER  DARK. 


Tom  (to  c.,  up).  It  means  that  I have  frustrated  your  villainy. 

Bel.  Are  you  mad  7 

Tom.  You  must  be. 

Mor.  What  are  you  doing  1 * 

Tom.  This  is  one  of  the  crimes  so  frequent  now ; not  the  open  robbery 
in  the  day,  but  done  in  some  hidden  den,  after  dark.  But  1 have  spoilt 
your  work. 

Bel.  Will  you  give  up  that  pocket-book  or  not  7 

Tom.  I will  hand  it  over  to  the  police.  (Morris  motions  Jack  and 
Crumpets  to  go  to  d.  in  f.)  Would  you  undertake  to  detain  me  in  a pub- 
lic place  I (goes  to  d.  in  f.)  Stand  aside  ! (Jack  jerks  his  thumb  over  his 
left  shoulder  significantly ; Crumpets  winks)  Ah!  I see  you  would  keep 
me  a prisoner,  (staggers  to  c.,  up.) 

Bel.  Will  you  return  that  book  I 

Tom.  Never  ! (to  Players,  l.)  Friends,  these  men  would  have  com- 
mitted a robbery — you  will  help  me. 

Mar.  Round  on  your  player. 

Tom  (aside).  They  don’t  heed  me ; they  disregard  me.  Oh,  where 
am  1 1 

Bel.  Are  you  satisfied  now  7 return  that  property. 

Tom.  No.  There  are  houses  close  by ; my  voice  will  attract  notice. 
Help,  help!  police,  police!  (Jack  and  others  sing  “Not  for  Joseph” 
chorus,  very  noisily,  and  hammer  on  stage  with  cues,  etc.,  drowning  Tom’s 
cries.) 

Bel.  You  will  have  it ! (Tom  grapples  him.  Jack  and  Crumpets’  put 
bag  over  Tom’s  head  and  carry  him  off  r.  Chumley  has  fallen  under  table  r. 
front,  insensible.  Knocking  d.  in  F.) 

All  (m  a whisper).  The  police  ! 

Mor.  (to  Waiter).  Take  these  glasses  away.  (Waiter^s  so,  Morris 
signs  for  Doorkeeper  to  open  door.) 

Police  enter  d.  in  f. 


First  Policeman.  What’s  all  the  row  about! 

Bel.  (looking  down  on  Chumley,  at  his  feet).  Ha,  ha,  nothing  ! only  my 
friend  here  has  been  dining  out  and — ha,  ha,  wanted  to  fight,  but  he’s 
quiet  now. 

Mor.  Oh,  it’s  quite  right,  officer,  it’s  a benefit  for  a benevolent  object. 
Depend  upon  it,  it’s  all  right  ! [Exit  Police. 

All.  (sneeringly).  Good-night,  Sergeant,  (laugh)  Ha,  ha,  ha ! 

Jack.  All’s  serene  ! (all  dance , “ Not  for  Joseph.”) 

Scene  closes  in. 


SCENE  II.—  Cellar  in  Is*  grooves . Gas  down. 

Enter , l.,  Tom. 

Tom.  Caged,  trapped  by  the  villains ! Oh,  Gordon  Chumley,  what 
have  they  done  with  him,  since  they  dragged  me  here.  Where  am  I . 
Oh,  that  fiend  Knatchbull.  After  I had  dogged  him  to  this  place,  and 
then  to  lose  him  at  the  hour  of  triumph.  Is  there  no  means  of  escape 
from  this  place?  (whistle,  sound  of  train  approaching , R.)  W hats  that! 
(run  train  R.  to  L.  and  off  over  platform  ; sees  air-hole  in  flat)  I may  be  able 
to  climb  up  and  look  out.  (looks  out  of  hole)  It  looks  ike  a long  da, k 
street,  with  green  and  red  lights  in  the  distance.  Oh,  I know  it,  I know 
it  now  It  is  the  underground  railway,  (comes  down  from  steps,  light, 


ACT  IV. 


37 


shown  l.  2 e.)  What’s  that 1 a light  in  the  adjoining  cellar.  A door  ! 
some  one  is  in  the  next  cellar.  Surely  that  is  Dicey’s  voice.  I may  hear 
what  he  says.  Ah  ! a keyhole ! Morris  and  Knatchbull.  What  are  they  car- 
rying between  them  'l  The  body  of  a man  ! Oh,  it  is  Gordon — Gordon 
Chumley.  They  have  murdered  him  and  have  brought  him  hereto  bury 
him.  What  is  it  they  are  saying  1 “ Is  the  hole  large  enough  1”  And  Morris 
says  : “ Yes.”  Knatchbull  speaks  : “ Is  the  line  clear  V I hear  footsteps 
returning.  Ah,  what  do  they  say  I “ Brick  up  the  hole  again  !”  Ah  ! 
they  have  thrown  the  insensible  man  into  some  hole  or  blind  well ! ( light 
removed ) I must  escape  from  this.  What’s  this  under  my  hand  1 a bar ! 
a fastening  to  the  door.  ( seizes  bar ) Come  on,  come  on  ! ( through  his  set 
teeth — breaks  bar  away ) Ah  ! With  this  1 can  make  the  hole  larger  and 
escape.  To  work,  Frank  Dalton,  to  work  ! I must  first  find  a barrel,  or 
something  to  stand  on  to  work.  Here,  here  ! 

[Exit  l.,  groping  with  bar  before  him . 

Scene  changes  to 

SCENE  III. — Discover  Tom  at  hole  l.  in  fiat , working  with  bar  to  widen  it ; 

Chumley  on  track  l.  c. 

Tom.  I have  got  the  bricks  out — nearly  room  enough  to  squeeze  through. 
{suddenly)  What’s  that  lying  on  the  line  ! it  does  not  move,  yet  it  looks 
like  a man.  Ah,  it  is  Gordon  Chumley ! {bell  rings  faintly , then  loudly , 
whistle , same  ; the  sound  of  train  approaching  begins  and  is  continued  till  end . 
Get  train  ready , r.  u.  e.  Music  to  correspond ) I must  be  free  now.  Gor- 
don, I am  here,  I am  here ! Oh,  God,  they  have  placed  him  there  to  die. 
Gordon,  Gordon  ! I will  save  you.  Oh,  the  train  ! the  coming  train  ! 
Good  heart,  courage,  Gordon  ! { jumps  down , falls  upon  Chumley  and  rolls 
with  him  upon  stage,  front,  clear ) You  are  saved,  {run  train  on.) 

QUICK  CURTAIN, 


ACT  IV. 

SCENE. — Villa  and  garden , same  as  Scene  II.,  Act  II  Gas  tip . 

Discover  Eliza  and  Medhurst,  r.  c.,  Rose  and  Chumley,  l.  c. 

Chum.  Yes,  they  thought  to  obliterate  all  evidences  of  their  crime  by 
placing  me  on  the  way  of  a passing  train. 

Med.  They  must  not  go  free  after  such  a climax  of  villainy. 

Chum.  Old  Tom  is  on  their  track,  and  has  promised  not  to  lose  sight 
of  them. 

Enter , r.  u.  e.,  Pointer. 

Poin.  We  have  Mr.  Morris,  gentlemen. 

Med.  Chumley,  suppose  you  step  aside.  (Chumley  goes  off \ l.  z e.}  You 
can  show  him  in. 


Two  Police  bring  in  Morris,  r.  u.  e. 

Mor.  I tell  you  it’s  some  mistake.  There’ll  be  a row  about  tnisn,  see 
if  there  don’t.  It’s  a mistake.  I am  as  innocent  as  the  baby  that  ifih 
never  born  ; wish  I may  die  if  I ain’t.  What,  Eliza ! 


38 


AFTER  DARK, 


Med.  Yes,  Lady  Medhurst. 

Mor.  Why,  they  told  me,  that  is,  they  said  as  how  she  was  dead. 

Med.  Murdered  ! 

Mor.  How  d— do  you  do,  ma’am  'l  Railly,  you  looked  so  much  like 
your  ghost  that — that  I took  you  for  it,  at  first. 

Med.  You  were  not  satisfied  with  one  victim,  but  you  must  try  to 
have  another  crime  to  your  charge. 

Mor.  Me  ! me  ! that’sh  a mishtake  ; never  set  eyes  on  the  gentleman. 

Med.  Of  whom  do  you  speak  1 

Mor.  Mr.  Gordon  Chumley,  of  course.. 

Med.  I never  mentioned  his  name. 

Mor.  ( eagerly ).  That’sh  just  what  I say;  you  never  mentioned  the 
gentleman’s  name.  That’sh  quite  right 

Med.  Mr.  Gordon  Chumley ! 

Enter,  l.,  Chumley, 

Mor.  {aghast).  Oh,  take  me  away— on  a charge. 

Chum.  I am  not  dead ; though  you  and  your  villainous  accomplice 
made  me  drugged  and  insensible.  You  see,  I have  survived  to  convict 
you. 

Mor.  To  conwict  me ! conwict  me  ! How  will  you  do  it  1 If  you 
were  drugged  and  insensible,  how  do  you  know  I had  anything  to  do 
with  it  7 

Chum.  That’s  true ; and  on  my  evidence  alone  perhaps  it  would  be 
hard  to  bring  it  home  to  you. 

Med.  {to  Pointer).  Was  anything  found  on  him  7 

Poin.  No,  sir. 

Mor.  {eagerly).  You  see  that ! and  they  s’arched  me — they  s’arched 
my  boots,  and  the  wery  roots  of  my  hair,  they  did  ; but  I came  out  of 
the  inwestigation  as  innocent  as  a child  ; wish  I may  die  if  I didn’t. 

Chum.  I cannot  swear  positively  that  you  had  a hand  in  the  actual 
offence. 

Enter,  r.  u.  e.,  Tom,  leaning  on  cane. 

Mor.  Of  course,  you  can’t  swear  to  it.  You  see  that  the  gentleman 
can’t  swear  to  me  ! wish  he  may  die  if  he  can  ! 

Tom.  Then  I can  ! There  was  nothing  found  on  him  because  the 
stolen  property  is  in  the  possession  of  his  confederate. 

Chum.  \ 0f  Bellingham  7 

Tom.  I followed  him  and  Morris  to  his  lodgings.  I squared  their  cab- 
man and  rode  on  behind,  and  through  the  trapdoor,  I heard  all  their 
plans. 

Mor.  Oh  ! You  know,  going  on  like  this  is  not  good  manners  ? Is  a 
respectable  householder  to  be  run  down  in  this  way  1 T won’t  stand  it  ! 
Wish  I may  die  if  I do.  I’m  a payer  of  rates  and  taxes,  and  a member  of 
the  westry.  I won’t  stand  it ! 

Tom.  I overheard  him  and  Morris  agree  to  keep  an  appointment  here 
to  “ put  the  screw”  on  Sir  George.  You  will  soon  have  him  here! 
You  can’t  deny  it!  If  I press  the  charge  against  you,  you  will  run  a 
chance  of  dying  in  fetters. 

Mor.  Oh,  don't  press  the  charge!  I’ll  swear  to  anything!  {bell  off  r. 
U.  E.J 

Tom.  Here  he  is.* 

*Eliy*.  Med.  Tom.  Chum.  Rose. 

a.  o.  c.  Morris. 


ACT  IT. 


89 


Enter , r.  u.  e.,  Bellingham,  Police  close  in  behind  him . 

Bel.  (looks  around).  Ah! 

Point.  Happy  to  see  you.  sir  ! 

Bel.  (sternly).  I cannot  return  the  compliment  !*  What!  Eliza! 

Med.  Lady  Medhurst ! 

Chum.  Mr.  Bellingham,  you  recognize  your  position  'l 

Bel.  Perfectly.  I know  all  is  up.  That  cringing  hound  has  betrayed 
me ! 

Point.  Yes,  he  has  made  a clean  breast  of  it.  And  I’ll  trouble  you  to 
do  the  same,  unless  you  fear  it  can  be  used  against  you. 

Bel.  I have  nothing  to  say. 

Point.  Well,  sir;  I’ll  expect  you  to  come  to  Bow  Street.  We  shall 
require  your  presence,  Mr.  Chumley.  (goes  up.) 

Bel.  (to  Chumley,  drawing  him  c.  front).  If  you  appear  against  me, 
you  will  consign  me  to  death.  You  pledged  your  word  that  you  would 
not  use  the  secret  in  your  hands.  Do  as  you  please,  but  I relied  on  your 
honor. 

Chum.  You  tried  to  kill  me  last  night ; but  you  have  my  word.  We 
are  quits. 

Bel.  (relieved).  Right ! Then  there  is  no  one  to  appear  against  me. 

Tom.  I will ! 

Bel.  Who  are  you  1 

Tom.  Frank  Dalton ! the  husband  of  your  victim  and  the  father  of  thir 
girl  ! (embraces  Eliza,  up  c.) 

Eliza.  Father ! 

Tom.  Yes,  my  child,  you  may  call  me  so  now. 

Mor.  (l.  front).  Let  ush  take  adwantage  of  a moment  of  excitement 
to  forget  and  forgive  everything  ! I’m  sure,  I bear  malice  to  no  one  ! I 
wish  I may  die  if  I do — there. 

Bel.  Dalton,  there  is  that  between  us,  which  you  can  never  forget  or 
forgive. 

Eliza.  My  father  is  not  your  judge. 

Bel.  No,  he  is  my  executioner.  Thank  you,  Mr.  Chumley,  though 
your  kindness  is  useless.  Officer,  I am  Richard  Knatchbull,  escaped  con- 
vict. There  is  five  hundred  pounds  reward  offered  for  my  capture,  by 
the  authorities  at  Hobartstown.  Take  it,  it  is  yours,  on  one  condition  ; 
that  you  expend  half  of  it  in  sending  out  that  cowardly  cur  there. 

Point.  I will  do  my  best,  sir.  Now,  Mr.  Morris,  come  along. 

Mor.  (dragged  up  c.).  Oh,  where  are  we  going  to  1 

Tom.  You  are  going  to  the  end  of  that  crooked  lane,  where  the  guilty 
find  their  steps  barred  by  the  gates  of  justice.  [Music. 

Form  picture. 

* * Police. 

Bel.*  * Point.  * Morris. 

Rose*  * Chumley.  Tom.*  * Eliza, 

* Medhurst. 


SLOW  CURTAIN. 


♦Eliza,  Med.  Bel.  Chum;  Rose. 

Tom.  Morris. 

R.  O,  O.  L.  G. 


3T ust  Fntolislioci. 


JOE  RUGGLES; 

OR, 

THE  GIRL  MINER. 

A COMEDY-DRAMA  IN  FOUR  ACTS.  BY  FRANK  J.  DEAN. 

PRICE  25  CENTS. 

Nine  male,  three  female  characters.  A vigorous,  stirring  play,  de- 
picting peculiar  types  of  life  in  a large  city  and  in  the  mining  districts 
of  the  West.  The  parts  of  Joe  Ruggles,  the  miner,  Hans  Von  Bush 
(Dutch  dialect),  and  Richard  Hamilton,  the  scheming  villain,  all 
afford  opportunity  for  clever  work  j while  the  part  of  Madge  (sou- 
brette),  who  afterwards  assumes  the  character  of  Mark  Lynch,  is  an 
excellent  one  for  a bright  young  actress.  This  last,  and  the  character 
of  Bessie  (juvenile)  could  easily  be  assumed  by  youths. 

Scenery — City  street,  showing  R.  R,  Station  ; rocky  pass,  with  set 
cabins  5 a wood  scene,  and  two  plain  interiors.  Costumes  of  the  day. 
Time  of  playing,  two  and  a half  hours. 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS. 

ACT  I. — Entrance  to  Railroad  Station. 

Looking  for  a victim— Joe  Ruggles—' “ Them  galoots  is  worse  than  grizzlies 
“ Morning  papers  ’’—Madge  and  Bess  plying  their  trades— “ Can’t  you  sing  Joe  a 
song?”— Hamilton  and  his  pal  confer— Tom  Howarth  gains  important  informa- 
tion—“ Don’t  you  dare  to  lay  hands  on  us ! ’’—Hamilton  tries  to  maintain  liis 
authority— “ Who  ? Old  Joe  ! ” 

ACT  II.— Doomsday’s  Hotel,  Dare-devil’s  Gulch,  California. 

The  landlord  secures  a guest— Hans  disappointed— “ Dot  is  a inisdake  ”— A 
ghost  story— The  “ Kid  and  his  sister  “ Did  1 hurt  your  highness?  ’’—Hans  and 
Doomsday  have  another  talk— Kate  Laurel  meets  the  young  miner— “ Yah,  dot 
vas  vot  I t’inks ’’—Madge’s  disguise  penetrated— She  recognizes  an  old  enemy— 
“Now,  George  Smith,  take  your  choice”— Joe  Ruggles  as  a tramp— “ Ef  y<  r 
think  yer  can  pick  on  me  because  I’m  han'soine  ye'li  find  me  ter  ham  ’’—Hamil- 
ton appears— “ Those  two  youngsters  are  mine”— The  tramp  takes  a hand. 

ACT  III.— Wood  Scene. 

A lively  ghost— Hamilton  and  Smith  plan  more  villainy— Old  Joe  thinks  of 
turning  detective— Kate  Laurel  again— “There  is  a secret  connected  with  my 
life”— Kate’s  confession— “What  do  you  mean,  sir!  ’’—Torn  Howarth  once  more 
— “ Vos  yon  looking  for  a hotel  ?”— Planning  an  abduction— Old  Joe  as  an  Irish- 
man—“ Phat  does  yez  want  wid  me?”— Undertakes  to  be  a detective— Takes  a 
hand  in  the  abduction— “ Do  it  at  your  peril!  ” 

ACT  IV. 

Hans  hears,  and  tells,  the  latest  news— “ I nefer  pelieved  dot  spook  peesness  ” 
—Kate  Laurel  astonished— Hamilton  attempts  flight— “ De  poys  haf  got  Mr.  Ham- 
ilton, und  dey  vill  gif  him  a necktie  barty  ’’—Arrest  of  Smith— “ Get  out  mit  my 
vay,  I vas  de  Unided  States  Mail  ’’—Toni  meets  his  old  friend  under  new  circum- 
stances—“ Do  you  want  me,  Tom?  ”—Ohl  Joe  gives  consent— A happy  ending. 


Single  copies  sent,  post-paid,  to  any  address,  on  receipt  of  price. 


DE  WITTES 


Ethiopian  and  Comic  Drama. — Continued. 

s 


49.  Night  in  a Strange  Hotel,  Ethiopian 


132.  Noble  Savage,  Eth.  sketch 4 1 

153.  Norah’s  Good  Bye,  Irish  musical 

sketch.  2 1 

145.  No  Pay  No  Cure,  Eth.  sketch 5 

22,  Obeying  Orders,  Eth.  sketch 2 1 

27.  100th  Night  of  Hamlet,  Eth.  sketch  7 1 
125.  Oh,  Hush!  operatic  olio,  3 scenes.  4 1 
30.  One  Night  in  a Bar-Room,  Eth. 
skotcli* « 7 

114.  One  Night  in  a Medical  College, 

Eth.  sketch. ... 7 1 

76.  One,  Two,  Three,  Eth.  sketch.....  7 

91.  Painter's  Apprentice,  Eth.  farce. . . 5 
87.  Pete  and  the  Peddler,  Eth.  and 

Irish  sketch 2 1 

135.  Pleasant  Companions,  Eth.  sketch.  5 1 

92.  Polar  Bear,  Eth.  farce 4 1 

9.  Policy  Players,  Eth.  sketch.  ......  7 

57.  Pompey’s  Patients,  Eth.  interlude, 

2 scenes 6 

65.  Porter’s  Troubles,  sketch 6 1 

66.  Port  Wine  vs.  Jealousy,  sketch.  ..2  1 

115,  Private  Boarding,  farce 3 3 

14.  Recruiting  Office,  Eth.  sketch 5 

105.  Rehearsal  (The),  Irish  farce,  2 sc. . 4 2 

45.  Remittance  from  Home,  Ethiopian 

sketch 6 

55.  Rigging  a Purchase,  Eth.  sketch..  3 

81.  Rival  Artists.  Eth.  sketch.... 4 

26.  Rival  Tenants,  Eth.  sketch 4 

138.  Rival  Barbers’  Shops,  Eth.  farce..  6 1 

15.  Sam’s  Courtship,  Eth.  farce 2 1 

59.  Sausage  Makers,  Eth.  sketch,  2 sc.  5 1 
21.  Scampini,  pantomime,  2 scenes. . . 6 3 

160.  Scenes  in  Front  of  a Clothing  Store, 

farce 7 1 

80.  Scenes  on  the  Mississippi,  Eth. 

sketch,  2 scenes  6 

84.  Serenade  (The),  Eth.  sketch,  2 sc..  7 


No.  M.  F. 

38.  Siamese  Twins,  Eth.  sketch,  2 sc..  5 

74.  Sleep  Walker,  Eth.  sketch,  2 scenes  3 

46.  Slippery  Day,  Eth.  sketch 6 1 

69.  Squire  for  a Day,  Eth.  sketch 5 1 

56.  Stage-struck  Couple, Eth.  interlude  2 1 

72.  Strangers,  Eth.  burlesque 1 1 

13.  Streets  of  New  York,  sketch 6 

16.  Storming  the  Fort,  sketch 5 

7.  Stupid  Seavant,  sketch 2 

121.  Stocks  Up!  Stocks  Down!  Eth. 

farce 2 

154.  Sulphur  Bath,  Eth.  farce 3 

47.  Take  It,  Don’t  Take  It,  Eth.  sketch  2 

54.  Them  Papers,  Eth.  sketch 3 

100.  Three  Chiefs,  Eth.  sketch,  2 scenes  6 

102.  Three  A.  M.,  sketch,  2 scenes 3 1 

34.  Three  Strings  to  one  Bow,  Eth. 

sketch ; 4 1 

122.  Ticket  Taker,  Eth.  farce 2 

2.  Tricks,  Eth.  sketch 5 2 

104.  Two  Awful s,  Eth.  sketch. 5 

5.  Two  Black  Roses,  Eth.  sketch 4 1 

28.  Uncle  Eph’s  Dream,  Eth.  sketch,  2 

scenes 3 1 

156.  Ljited  States  Mail.  Eth.  farce 2 2 

134.  Unlimited  Cheek,  Eth.  sketch 4 1 

62.  Vinegar  Bitters,  Eth.  sketch 6 1 

32.  Wake  up,  William  Henry,  Eth. 
sketch 3 

39.  Wanted,  a Nurse,  sketch 4 

75.  Weston,  theWalkest,  Dutch  sketch  7 1 

93.  What  Shall  I Take?  Eth.  farce 7 1 

29.  Who  Died  First?  Eth.  sketch., 3 1 

97.  Who’s  the  Actor?  Eth.  farce 4 

137.  Whose  Baby  is  it?  Eth.  sketch..  . 2 1 
143.  Wonderful  Telephone,  Eth.  sketch  4 1 
99.  Wrong  Woman  in  the  Right  Place, 

sketch,  2 scenes 2 2 

85.  Young  Scamp,  Eth.  sketch 3 

116.  Zacharias’  Funeral,  Eth.  farce....  6 


.ik^oA  Complete  Descriptive  Catalogue  of  De  Witt’s  Acting  Plays  and  De  Witt's 
Ethiopian  and  Comic  Drama,  containing  Plot,  Costumes,  Scenery,  Time  of 
Representation,  and  all  other  information,  mailed  free  and  post-paid  on  application. 
Address  as  on  First  Page  of  this  Catalogue. 


PANTOMIME  PLAY. 

“HUMPTY  DUMPTY.” 

The  celebrated  Pantomime,  as  originally  played  for  1,$0§  nights  by  the 
late  Georoe  L.  Fox.  Arranged  by  John  I>eni«r,  Es^.  Eight  male. 


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arranging  stage,  making  scenery,  getting 
up  costumes,  making  uo,  producing  stage 
illusions  and  effects,  etc.,  together  with  many  valuable  suggestions  for 
managers  and  players.  Handsomely  illustrated  with  six  colored  plates. 
Price,  Twenty-five  cents  each. 


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